


I Found Peace In Your Silence

by WhenIFindLoveAgain



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, M/M, Medical Conditions, Muteness, Neurological Disorders, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Fiction, Speech Disorders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 79,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenIFindLoveAgain/pseuds/WhenIFindLoveAgain
Summary: Jisoo Hong was born mute all because of a birth defect in his throat that was discovered at premature birth; this work is a character and concept study of what it is to be a mute person from not a psychomotor condition or neurological disorder, navigating work, living, sex, romance, day-to-day life, been perved on at bus-stops, getting around with all of your friend's friends, and dealing with a consistent heartbreak because a few missing elements in the throat that might all be able to be magically solved with a tracheotomy procedure, a interfering Russian artist, and a curious long-haired guy called Yoon Jeonghan with a full gang of chaos, absolute disaster, and their own accumulated version of "the sweet life" in tow
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Jeon Wonwoo, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Lee Seokmin | DK, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Original Character(s), Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Jeon Wonwoo/Original Female Character(s), Jeon Wonwoo/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 18





	1. Jisoo

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is very long, I agree, but with a work - an online work or a printed work - the first chapter is the most important. It sets the tone and hope and desire and chaos and angst and happiness for the whole work; whispers and tales of things to come. This is the second time I've written a character study of a disability/condition, or otherwise involved a disability/condition into a work. The first time I did this I introduced into the work a character with Aquagenic Urticaria - allergy to water. It's a real thing by the way, but only 33 people in the whole world have it, but over the last thirty years, the number has become 59 sufferers. Now, the topic of muteness. I write of the causes of muteness, and, it's a true fact that people can be mute due to birth complications, premature birth, etc, as well as psychomotor and neurological disorders and illnesses like multiple sclerosis, MND, certain blood disorders plus cancer, but for this work I made the mutness of Jisoo's character a muteness due to birth complications/premature birth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo Hong was born mute all because of a birth defect in his throat that was discovered at premature birth; this work is a character and concept study of what it is to be a mute person from not a psychomotor condition or neurological disorder, navigating work, living, sex, romance, day-to-day life, been perved on at bus-stops, getting around with all of your friend's friends, and dealing with a consistent heartbreak because a few missing elements in the throat that might all be able to be magically solved with a tracheotomy procedure, a interfering Russian artist, and a curious long-haired guy called Yoon Jeonghan with a full gang of chaos, absolute disaster, and their own accumulated version of "the sweet life" in tow

Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan who was looking down through the open window ledge at the boy waiting at the bus stop; he was skinny, tall, with black hair, and he always was either on his phone, or just watching the world go by. Jeonghan watched him all of the time.

  
Jeonghan wondered what his job was, and where he actually work or lived to have to come to that bus-stop. Seungcheol considered spitting down on his head and then hiding. He knew it was a very horrible thought, but that particular day he was really annoyed with how much attention his flat-mate was giving to essentially what was just perving on someone very innocent. Well, innocent enough.

  
Suddenly, things changed. Seungcheol swore under his breath and ducked out of the way as suddenly the boy appeared out of the bus shelter - just him there by himself - and look up at them, taking a white headphone out of his ear. Seungcheol gestured for Jeonghan, but the bastard didn't move; instead, he waved down to the boy and shouted something at him; Seungcheol didn't want to hear any of the humiliation that was crashing down on them, putting his hands over his ears. W _hat the fuck is Jeonghan doing, honestly?_ He thought to himelf.

  
Jeonghan watched the boy gaze up at him, before smiling and his mouth moving to words that Jeonghan couldn't hear, before disappearing back into the bus shelter, putting his head-phone back into his ear. 

  
"What the fuck did you just say?" Seungcheol hissed, grabbing Jeonghan's arm.

  
"You're down there every day." Jeonghan replied, a huge grin on his face. "God, he's cute!"

  
"Beside - the - fucking - point." Seungcheol shook Jeonghan back and forth with each word. "You - total - fucking - twat!"

  
Jeonghan laughed. "That's the second time this week you've called me a twat, maybe I should move out." He said conversationally. Seungcheol's eyes widened as that hit him a bit too harder than it should have done.

  
"Don't you dare." Seungcheol told him, pulling him in for a quick hug. Jeonghan dived out of it as soon as he could a few seconds later to look back out of the window.

  
"I just saw his head." Jeonghan reported with a grim sort of seriousness to his tone. Seungcheol snorted. They were behaving like total twats, no doubt about it in the world. "Quick - it came around the corner and then flicked back again."

  
"Yeah, because a guy with long hair and a turtleneck is perving on him." Seungcheol replied. Jeonghan smacked his crotch. Seungcheol violently groped the inside of Jeonghan's thigh and nearly made him fall over. Sure enough, the boy's head popped around the side of the bus shelter again.

  
"What's your name?" Seungcheol found himself shouting down out of the two-storey height window.

  
The boy looked quite stunned for a minute, before his hands moved in a quick flurry of sign language. He looked quite awkward all of a sudden.

  
"He's deaf." Seungcheol echoed.

  
"Now he's not; if he's deaf how can he be listening to music?" Jeonghan said. "The headphones." Jeonghan looked seungcheol. "Let's go down."

  
"You go down. I'm not."

  
"Alright, I'll go down, you chickenshit." Jeonghan told him firmly. A couple of moments later, Jeonghan was appearing out of their front door and went over to the bus shelter where the boy was. A few seconds after that, the boy fetched something out the front pocket of his dark navy denim jeans and showed Jeonghan. All of a sudden, even from a sixteen-foot height, Seungcheol could see Jeonghan's whole stance and manner change. Jeonghan pointed up to him, and Seungcheol waved a little bit, caught out. The boy smiled, but didn't speak. Seungcheol hadn't heard him speak the entire time. Next thing he saw, Jeonghan was bringing the boy...back inside their front door. Seungcheol raced across the open space living room where there were nearly no walls - the kitchen, hall, sitting room, study and excess floor space were all one, with the bathroom off the laundry and two bedrooms. Seungcheol got the rack of underwear and shirts drying by the heater into the laundry and slid the door shut just as the door in the hall opened, and Jeonghan came upstairs with the boy.

  
"This is Jisoo." Jeonghan jutted a thumb over his shoulder, leading the boy through the boy through the passages of floorboards in-between the combined, walless rooms. The apartment was built in one section of a old gun cotton factory, and so all along the west facing wall were huge windows - three meters by five - full of little window panes of frosted glass and skylights from the 30's and 40's. Jisoo looked a bit unsure in the space; he had short black hair and he was wearing a dark navy coat, a dark green jumper, the dark-toned jeans and white converse sneakers. His face was beautiful with full lips, almond-shaped eyes that twinkled spectrochroamtically, with a ovular face and purposed cheekbones and jaw with a button-mushroom nose and thick, straight eyebrows. Seungcheol felt the need to apologise to him over Jeonghan for some reason he could not quite explain to himself. Jeonghan went off into his bedroom, and Seungcheol did apologise to Jisoo, who smiled a little bit and held up his hands. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and showed it to Seungcheol, who was confused as first but not as confused as he would have been had he not seen Jisoo do it to Jeonghan. Seungcheol read the paper:

  
_Sorry, I'm mute_

  
_I can't believe he apologises for it,_ was the first thought that went through Seungcheol's head afterwards. He told Jisoo that. Jisoo gave that small smile again and shook his head. He pulled out his phone and typed something on the notes app.

  
_I have to. It's fine_

  
Seungcheol decided to try something else. "Why do you always catch that bus down there?" He asked Jisoo. Jisoo typed again.

  
_I don't live too far away and it's the only bus that goes directly into the CBD. I work with a practice that helps families with mute and/or deaf babies, toddlers, small kids, and that bus is easier than the train. Less crowded. Less terrifying_

  
Seungcheol laughed at the "less terrifying" remark. Jisoo typed more.

  
_I hate how everyone gets crammed in like sardines in a can. There should be some regulation against that sort of over-crowding_

  
Seungcheol laughed more. He liked what Jisoo kept typing up. 

  
_You see teenage schoolgirl's heads in business men's armpits. Absolutely disgusting_

  
He paused.

  
_Which one of you started it?_

  
"What do you mean?" Seungcheol asked.

  
_The staring at the back of my head thing_

  
"Ah." Seungcheol didn't know why he hesitated. "That was Jeonghan."

  
_Ok_ , Jisoo simply texted.

  
"Uh -" Seungcheol rubbed his hand over the back of his neck awkwardly. "Could you tell me a bit more how you - what you think about that? It's just a bit creepy, and I told him to cut it out because it's freaky but he didn't listen and today, like, was the day you looked up and saw him." Jisoo's thumbs danced across the keyboard of his phone. The reply was simple - again.

  
_I've known for ages he does it_

  
Jisoo typed again.

  
_It's fine even thought it doesn't seem it. It's alright. I never sort of - you know did anything sooner because, well, I can't fucking speak. It's a pain in the arse; probably looked like Mr. Perfect down there for a bit. What do you and Jeonghan do (apart from live together?)_

  
"Um - I design websites for people who pay me a huge amount of money and Jeonghan's a pain in the arse." Seungcheol replied. Jisoo's mouth came open in a silent laugh. Seungcheol was stunned; he didn't think mute people gave that response. He had never met or known a mute person before in his life, and had never given much thought to it before.

  
"What's it like?" Seungcheol ventured to ask. "Not speaking?"

  
_It's completely natural to me. Like a heartbeat and breathing. I used to think that it was wonderful that I could still do that - have a working heart and lungs just like everything else. It was once really cool to me, when I was younger; heartbeats and breathing and stuff like that. Kind of weird, that fascination, now I'm older. When I was in my teens I got very troubled and jealous and upset by not been able to talk; girls would think you're cute and come over to you, and guys would come over because all the girls would be clustered around you. And I couldn't say a word. Girls want a guy that's able to tell them that they're pretty; I can't. I used to do football; it antagonized the guys more that I couldn't tell them that it was alright or if I was hurt or not if I got hit in the face by a football by accident and they spent hours apologising_

  
Seungcheol's heart clenched in sympathy for Jisoo. All of a sudden, he had a deeply powerful insight in what it was to live as Jisoo - mute. It chest ached inside nearly unbearably. It was a sad and beautiful feeling, but it wasn't him. It was all Jisoo.

  
_It's fine; you grow up with it, right? I get my way around things; this helps a lot to express things_

  
Jisoo stuck up his middle finger, and then changed it to where he held up his index and middle fingers. Seungcheol laughed again. 

  
_And this,_ Jisoo added. He waved a fist in the air. _I think of it as the pedestrians horn - you know that thing of when you're walking across a road and you can just tell the cars are speeding up? You have to use your face a lot - your eyes, mouth, eyebrows. Smile a lot, give the bird, make the odd cut-throat sign or just wave your hands in someone's face or kick them in the ankle_

  
"What does the kick in the ankle represent?" Seungcheol questioned.

  
_That's my way of saying "shut the fuck up"_

  
Seungcheol laughed more. "I'm sorry for laughing - I'm not taking the piss, everything's just really funny." He apologised to Jisoo, who was grinning. Jisoo shrugged.

  
_I know what you mean. I think you're handling it really well - you and Jeonghan. Most people implode just like "that". Before you say it, I don't care what people think. I can't talk but I can still break someone's nose or jaw. I wish I could swear; that's the only thing._

  
"Could you get, like - I dunno -" Seungcheol shrugged. "A Stephen Hawking system?"

  
_Welcome to my Stephen Hawking system,_ Jisoo responded. A thought came to Seungcheol.

  
"Do mute babies make any sound when they cry?" He asked Jisoo hesitantly. Jisoo shook his head.

  
_Parents of mute babies have a really tough time. They'll never have that first word or sound. When they're new-borns they either sleep on their Mum or Dad's stomach, or in the bed on a pillow where they can keep an eye on them._

  
"How was school then?"

  
_My teachers were nice enough; they put the fear of God into the other kids. If they took the piss out of me it was their entry-ticket to Hell_

  
Jisoo grinned.

  
_High school was another matter. Automatic religious belief and fear of it isn't as it once was. That's where the middle finger came into use._

  
If possible to Seungcheo, Jisoo grinned even wider. _It sounds really bad but it was fun in a lot of ways_

  
"Hey - uh, I'll see what Jeonghan's up to." Seungcheol said. Jisoo shook his head quickly.

  
_I think I humiliated him. He asked me what "mute" meant and I said to him, "Are you thick?"_

  
Seungcheol burst out laughing. "Yeah, see what you mean." He chewed the inside of his lower lip for a minute, crossing his arms. He saw Jisoo's eyes grace over his face.

  
_Can you tell him I'm sorry? Like, I would if I could, but that's not a option right now_

  
Seungcheol nodded. "Yeah, sure, no problem - give me a second, then, eh? Have a seat,won't be too long." He pointed down to one of the grey couches, and nicked off across the floor and into jeonghan's bedroom. He closed the door, and found Jeonghan lying down on his bed. Jeonghan had his hands over his eyes, his hair strewn everywhere, and his shit rode up just that little bit that his lower stomach, completely flat, was shown, with the light trail of black hair that begun at the top of his abdomen.

"Jisoo's a really nice guy." Seungcheol laid down on the bed beside Jeonghan, on his side with one hand pressed against his head and his face, the other forearm laying on the bed. "He apologises by the way."

  
"I just didn't expect it." Jeonghan said faintly, taking his hands away from his eyes. "I really am thick."

  
"He doesn't think that. He's sorry." Seungcheol said to him. They both looked at the door as Jisoo knocked on it and his head came around the frame. Seungcheol thought to himself just how beautiful Jisoo was; he could be thought of as the more mascular handsome, or the more infantile cute, but, really, he was beautiful. Seungcheol wasn't quite sure what was happening between Jisoo and Jeonghan, but he saw Jeonghan's chest dip that little bit as Jisoo mouthed Jeonghan's name. Jeonghan had a whole arm's length of previous obsessions and infatuations that had got over or got bored of; either he got sick of them once attained or he weaned himself off them slowly because they were completely unattainable. Jeonghan was seductive but narcisstic; he was two-faced. Sweet and kind and caring and warmly seductive, then almost conniving, demanding, controlling, bittersweet, negative, jealous, and cold. He could be an arsehole. But Jisoo insisted they he could hold his game. Seungcheol hoped he could. Because, if so, it was going to be a drastically interesting game. And that's what it was, because whenever and whatever with Jeonghan, it was always a game.

  
"Want me to leave you two to it?" Seungcheol asked. Jeonghan flushed a bit of dark colour, and Jisoo mouthed more words, speaking silent language, his fingers moving gently as weeds in a river's current below the surface, gesturing Seungcheol away. As Seungcheol moved out of the space, Jisoo's eyes averted themselves to the ground, but they slid back up to look at Seungcheol as he left. For a second, the gaze enraptured Seungcheol and he felt a shiver run down his spine. _Fuck_ , he thought.

  
Jisoo came to lie down beside Jeonghan on the bed where Seungcheol had been; the spot Jisoo was in was still warm from where Seungcheol's body had laid just previously.  
Jeonghan read Jisoo's words as he typed.

  
_You're a funny guy, you know that right? Your friend thinks I'm hilarious_

  
"Can I kiss you?" Jeonghan asked Jisoo quietly, who just put his phone face-down on the bed and shifted in closer, his head angling around slightly for Jeonghan's mouth to meet his. When their mouths did press together, it was chaste and warm and human. The closeness and the depth overlapped each other in underlying sort of blissfulness, and it was a matter for the both of them. Jeonghan and Jisoo both moved in for a second, which became a third then a fourth, then a tenth and onwards counting. Jeonghan's fingertips came to touch Jisoo's hands and face, and Jisoo's hand held onto his waist at the side.

  
Eventually, they came to a stop, their eyes closed and their breaths gracing across each other's mouths, foreheads and noses pressed together.

  
"You really can't make any sound at all?" Jeonghan said to Jisoo. All of a sudden, Jisoo sat up sharply, shifting away from him on the bed. Jisoo typed quickly on his phone.

  
_Just put your number in and call me sometime_

  
As soon as Jeonghan had done it, Jisoo got up and left. Jeonghan didn't know what to do with himself.

\---------------------

As Jisoo turned the key inside of the lock of the the house he shared as well, he relaxed from a strange sort of anatagonized fretfulness and bitter disappointment at the sound of guitar strings and a soft voice singing folk-like songs.

  
_Thank God for Seokmin_ , Jisoo thought to himself.

  
"That you, Soo?"

  
_Fuck not being able to fucking speak_ , Jisoo thought. He wished he could have shouted out a "Yes" or to be a smartarse, "Yes, darling, I'm home, where's my kiss?". Something stupid, something dumb, something funny. He wished he could have even made a "Hm" sound. I'm just left in this fucking silence and there not a fucking thing I can fucking well do about it

  
Jisoo came into the sitting room and flopped over the back of the couch, his head falling into Seokmin's lap who had wisely shifted his guitar out of the way first, and Jisoo slung his legs over the arm of the couch. He looked up at Seokmin who could read him like a book. Absolutely perfect.

  
"Hey, did something happen?"

  
Yeah, and right now I just want to be inside here with you forever if that's alright, Jisoo wanted to reply huffily. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow, and let Seokmin's hands push his back and shoulders until he was in a sitting position, his arse on the other side of Seokmin's thighs, his back pressed into the other arm of the couch.

  
"Did one of the babies get sick?" Seokmin asked. Jisoo shook his head. He picked Seokmin's open laptop off from the floor and typed up everything on a spare and mostly unused WordPad app.

  
"Christ, and they know you can't speak, right?" Seokmin checked. Jisoo pointed to the word "yes". Seokmin hummed.

  
_Fuck_ , Jisoo mouthed. Seokmin grinned.

  
"You going to go on a date or something?" Seokmin asked. Jisoo hesitated, but then nodded. "Happy about it?" Seokmin added. Jisoo just looked at him. Seokmin sighed through his nose

  
_What does he look like_ , Seokmin mouthed back. Jisoo put his arm around Seokmin shoulders. It was possible to describe how he felt when Seokmin did that; because in that moment, Seokmin was like him and he was like Seokmin. There was this perfect balance in the mutual silence.

  
_He's got long hair and good skin and a nice body_ , Jisoo described. _Nice smile, nice laugh, didn't react badly when he realized I am mute_

  
Seokmin smiled. He'd got considerably better at lip-reading since he had moved in with Joshua four - sorry, no five years ago now. Seokmin thought that was a feat in itself; five bloody years. 

  
_He has a flatmate called Seungcheol,_ Jisoo added.

  
_What does he look like_ , Seokmin asked.

  
_Tall, a bit of muscle. Short black hair, didn't mind about me at all. You know that guy that kept perving on me from his window? That's Jeonghan. And the other guy that was always telling him to cut it out and he wasn't been an idiot and it was never going to go anywhere bar a police cell was Seungcheol_ , Jisoo explained.

  
_You went up into the perv's place with the goody-goody mate?_ Seokmin checked. Jisoo grinned. He could have been a nutter

  
_Don't know about that but he's a good kisser_ , Jisoo pressed his tongue against his lower lip in a lewd gesture and Seokmin laughed and told him off using his voice.

  
"Don't do that when you're so close to me." Seokmin said.

  
Jisoo smirked, a eyebrow jumping seductively. He leaned closer to Soekmin who flattened himself back against the couch. Jisoo Hong - despite his speech problem - was an utter fuck-boy. He had got through not one, not two, but seven mates and other people that Seokmin knew over the last few years. He got bored or got his taste, moved on, but was still sweet and alluring enough that he had whoever it was right there, wrapped around his little finger; soon whoever wasn't just an individual. More like a individual group.   
Just let me body do the work, Jisoo teased, smiling a little bit, his thumb and the side of his index finger grasping Seokmin's chest.

  
"Right, no you're not, hey, get off!" Seokmin pressed himself another few impossibly millimeters into the couch and then just let Jisoo kiss him. Jisoo lips were hot against his own, and Seokmin didn't let Jisoo's tongue inside his mouth immediately even though he felt the hot, wet slide of Jisoo's tongue against his lips. Seokmin inhaled sharply through his nose as suddenly his felt his jaw go slack and suddenly Jisoo got what he wanted; Seokmin felt his head tipped back a bit as Jisoo moved up over him slight, one knee in-between Seokmin's legs and the other knee on the right right side of Seokmin's hips. Jisoo's hands were either side of Seokmin's throat, and Seokmin could feel the soft pads of thumbs pressing and tracing on his skin, a touch of nail digging into his skin something blissful.

  
Seokmin hummed against Jisoo's mouth as Jisoo's hand slipped underneath his t-shirt, feeling the skin of his flat stomach and his chest.

  
"Hey. Hey, Jisoo, babe..." Seokmin said, bringing Jisoo back down to somewhere near Earth. Jisoo look slightly dazed, and his lips were full and flushed and kiss swollen. "You met someone earlier, right? Just think about that for a second eh?"

  
Can't do anything until he calls me, Jisoo said.

  
"Right, so you're goanna do me, instead?" Seokmin checked. A grin bloomed over Jisoo's face, and Seokmin knew he was fucked.

\------------------

Jisoo sometimes why he bothered doing it when he had known for his whole life he couldn't make sound. Wonwoo! Jisoo called out as the shop's tin bell twinkled over his head as he went inside. Wonwoo glanced up, but he looked up properly as he saw it was Jisoo.

  
"Hey, hyung, what are you up to?" Wonwoo beamed. Wonwoo worked in his Dad's motor and aircraft parts factory, museum and shop. Wonwoo had never been any good at the mechanical maintenance of his Dad's vintage car collection, but he was good at management of the shop when it was virtually a drive-through surface deep in the inner city. A rich business would pull up in a Mercedes and need wheel nuts; Wonwoo knew the price of everything, where it was, how many the Mercedes owner would need, and how much money Wonwoo could flog off him on the side. Wonwoo's Father had quickly realized that having Wonwoo as a shop-keeper, essentially, worked out absolutely fucking brilliant.   
Jisoo had something prepared on his phone which he showed to Wonwoo. _I won't bother you too long with your Dad and Uncle around but I've got a date for tonight and he only found out a few days ago I'm a mute. You know that guy who use to get a perv in where I get the bus? That finally happened, pretty much. The date is with him_

  
"Oh, shit." Wonwoo chuckled, leaning his elbows on the service bench. "Where are you going to go?"

  
Suddenly, a look came over Jisoo's face. _Oh, fuck me dead_ , he mouthed, looking worried.

  
"Hey, what is it?" Wonwoo asked. Jisoo turned his phoen around and typed into it quickly.

  
_I just realized. I'm mute._

  
Wonwoo snorted a laugh. "Yeah?". Jisoo widened his eyes, before typing again.

  
_Because I'm mute, everything's a fucking drama. If I mess around or got out with either you, Seokmin, or Hansol, we've got everything sorted out, you know? But, Jeonghan's new and he's never known anyone who can't speak and hasn't ever spoken - ever. Hanging out at his place is just the limit, but how the fuck is this going to work? He doesn't know his way around a mute person, communicating - like, if you, me or Seokmin go out, with know which tables to go for, the food, the drinks, you know, the normal stuff. But with him - it'll be different, because he's never done this before and I don't want to embarrass him him in a cafe or something like that, you know what I mean? And pre-arranging everything - no, no way, not on a first fucking date_

  
"Bro, where's the paperwork for Kim Gerry's Chevrolet?" Wonwoo's younger brother, Bo Hyuk, ran into the room with a set of goggles on his head and engine oil splattered over his shirt and jeans. "Hey, Jisoo." Bo Hyuk quickly said.

  
"Here it is." Wonwoo bobbed behind the desk and pulled out a folder of papers from a hidden cabinet. "Whats the matter?"

  
"The fucking thing went to America, yeah, for the car show in Chicago? Before it went out on display in the museum, someone has fucked with it and now the engine has died and the radiator is bleeding and - oh, it's a fucking mess." Bo Hyuk responded, evidently nearly having a fit.

  
_Has he got insurance?_ Jisoo asked.

  
"Sorry, mate, this isn't working." Bo Hyuk said.

  
"Insurance?" Wonwoo checked with Joshua, Bo Hyuk sighing as he got it. That was one of the tricks with Wonwoo; he had known Joshua long enough and well enough that he could predict what he was going to say about certain subjects.

  
"The way the Chevy's fucked with - it looks like someone has done it on purpose for an insurance job, so if the company were to be called up, they send out an inspector. Then, they try to pin it on Kim Gerry personally, or they go for us -" Bo Hyuk gestured between him and Wonwoo. "For aiding something beautiful they call "insurance fucking fraud"." Bo Hyuk scoffed dirtily. "And how the fuck can you pin it on some hayseed in Yankville?"

  
Jisoo typed on his phone, _Is it actually a - has someone done it on purpose, or is it just the shittest engine service in history by a bad mechanic?_

  
"Nah, nah, it's the second one - and it'd better be for fuck's sake because Dad and Uncle are on the warpath with Gerry. They've all been mates for years; Grandad's knew each other, Great-Grandfather - me and Wonwoo's Great-Grandfather - knew Kim Gerry's old man. Massive fucking problem this." Bo Hyuk suddenly looked desperately tired.

Wonwoo picked up on it.

  
"You watch the counter, I'll deal with this." Wonwoo patted his little brother's head. "Back in a minute, Soo."

  
_Ok_ , Jisoo said. Hey, he added to Bo Hyuk, who nodded.

  
"What's happenin', hyung?" Bo Hyuk asked, pulling a smoke out the pocket of his jeans and offering one to Jisoo. The first time he had met Bo Hyuk that younger man had suggested smoking might cure his "throat problem". Jisoo had taken to him instantly; a fish to water. When Jisoo saw Bo Hyuk smoking, he thought it looked cool, even though he knew with each draw that smoke was brewing a cancer in his lungs and his blood. When he saw the younger Jeon brother doing it, he rather wished the older one would do it.  
_Date with someone tonight who isn't a mute and me and your brother just realized how this could be a big fucking problem_ , Jisoo typed as the cigarette dangled from in-between Bo Hyuk's lips, the tip now glowing orange as the tobacco leave inside caught flame from the gas lighter in Bo Hyuk's pocket.

  
"Ever thought of dating someone whose got a throat problem too?" Bo Hyuk asked.

  
_No, one of us needs to talk_ , Jisoo explained. Bo Hyuk hummed, drawing in on the cigarette.

  
"You sure about that?" Bo Hyuk remarked, just as the sound of more than a couple of men having an utter hissy fit sounded through the buildings. "Ah, shit, there goes Dad and Uncle and Gerry and everyone else - yep, the workers will start rowing in quick succession..." Bo Hyuk and Jisoo waited for more noise to be created...as it then was. "Here we are." Bo Hyuk commented.

  
For yet another time in Jisoo's life, he was amazed and envious and a little bit sad at how much noise a single person could make, let alone a whole warehouse of them, when he couldn't make a single sound at all. He couldn't even scream. He had a momentary flashback to a memory of when he was a child and he had broken his leg and his ankle; the pain had been horrific, and it had seemed ten times worse when you were only five years old. He was playing in a park that back onto his parents and their neighbours back garden. He was there for three hours, all because his screams couldn't be heard. He had made no sound at all. The doctors at the hospital had nearly had a heart-attack at the prospect of a mute child with a badly battered leg. How could he say he was in pain, if he was uncomfortable, if he could feel something was wrong or if he would become sick from the morphine concentrate that was been put into his system through a IV drip in his arm.

  
_Yeah, one of us needs to be able to talk. Not all mute or deaf people - fucking bad if you're both - but not all mute or deaf people can get each other perfectly. You know, understand each other perfectly. There has to be that balance where one is perfect; that's why with couples usually it's the husband that's deaf or mute with a perfect wife_ , Jisoo typed.

  
"Right." Bo Hyuk read and nodded. He and Jisoo looked back over to the entry to the warehouse where things really seemed to be kicking off. A few seconds later, Wonwoo appeared.

  
"Let's get the food for lunch in." Wonwoo said. "Dad, Uncle and Kim Gerry are going nuts on the phone at someone. This'll go on for hours, now."

  
_Yeah?_ Jisoo spoke.

  
"Oh, yeah. Dad and Uncle had a fight over the phone once for four hours." Bo Hyuk added. He scowled as a Volkswagen pulled up outside the warehouse door. "I'll deal with this fuck." He said as Wonwoo led Jisoo upstairs.

  
Above the shop beside the warehouse with the museum extending out the back on the otherwise - a property worth four and a half million English pound - was apartment and offices spaces that was set up a bit like a house. In fact, it virtually was a house up there. There were spaces for bedrooms, a kitchen, a sitting room, two bathrooms, with air-conditioners and central heating, two TV's, and huge windows that overlooked the city from a fourth storey height.

  
Jisoo settled in one of the timber window-seats and looked out over Seoul. It was Midsummer, and it was hot with traces of the cloud in the sky. In the apartment above the Jeon's building was a weather barometer - a very old English-made one - that indicated there was going to be heavy rain to come, but Jisoo doubted it slightly. It was tucked up inside a apartment with the air conditioner blasting. 

  
Wonwoo rang up a restaurant down the road; his Father and Uncle ate mostly everything, but on Friday's they always had a dish which was basically steamed potato and spiced mince meet with a Australian-bran beer on the side. The restaurant owners had bought parts for a hot water system from the Jeon's seven years ago, and since then they had been friendly. They always sent up one of the waitresses with an old packing crate full of lunch. Jisoo thought it was a bit funny how he had got to known the Jeon men's habits by been friends for so many years with Wonwoo.

  
"What's the matter, Soo?" Wonwoo asked him. Jisoo realized Wonwoo had said something to him, but he hadn't heard it, so lost in his thoughts he had been. Jisoo typed on his phone.

  
_I'm getting scared all of a sudden for me and Jeonghan's date. Been mute...when you look it up on the internet like I think Jeonghan and Seungcheol or just the one of them would have done - it comes up with things like "psychomotor retardation" and "neurological deformations". It's unnerving to read. It's terrifying. There's nothing wrong with me; I'm not on tablets and I don't have psychosis, schizophrenia, bipolar, anything like that. It's in my throat that I just can't make fucking sound._

  
Wonwoo read what Jisoo had typed. "I get what you're saying, Soo, but you don't need to worry about something like this." Wonwoo told him. "How about this..." He added after a moment of thought. "If you're really worried, me and Seokmin can come with you. We can ring up Hansol as well - he never has anything on the go, you know him." Wonwoo grinned. Jisoo smiled a little bit, but Wonwoo could tell he was still unsettled internally. "Let's just focus on this." He said. "What time do we start at?"

  
_Eight 'o' clock_ , Jisoo replied.

  
"Eight it is, then." Wonwoo messed up Jisoo's hair, and in return, the older man did the same to him.

\--------------------

"Don't walk out halfway through." Seungcheol said to Jeonghan.

  
"Why would I walk out halfway through?" Jeonghan scoffed, rolling his eyes.

  
"Because he can't speak." Seungcheol implored, his arms crossed.

  
Jeonghan stopped digging through his wardrobe for a shirt. "Cheol, don't be arse."

  
"I'm not be an arse, I'm been factual; I know you and I know that you just don't get it." Seungcheol told him, straight.

  
"But I do get it." Jeonghan replied.

  
"No, you don't." Seungcheol said.

  
"How the fuck don't I get it?" Jeonghan retorted, getting the shits on with Seungcheol.

  
"You don't know anything about mute people or muteness in general." Seungcheol sighed. "It gets caused by surgery sometimes - they wake up from the anesthetic and something's wrong. Othertimes, it's a illness inside - some nervous disorder you don't know about because he hasn't said. He might not have any of it, but he might do. Other times it's the result of depression or anxiety and then other mental disorders like Bipolar, Schizophrenia, Autism, Asperger's."

  
"He's not autistic." Jeonghan argued.

  
Seungcheol sighed again. "I don't think he is either, but -"

  
"Can't you trust me?" Jeonghan nearly shouted, staring at Seungcheol hardly.

  
"This is about him." Seungcheol said.

  
"He's got a name - Jisoo." This time, Jeonghan did snarl.

  
"Fine, this is about Jisoo, then." Seungcheol thumbed his brow. "And, look, no matter what causes his muteness - it makes him different, Hannie. It means he's different all the time - totally 24/7. You know he's probably miserable and as lonely as fuck, right? You can't mess him about." They were the words that got Jeonghan. He suddenly deflated, and looked miserable.

  
"Can I get into the shower yet?" Jeonghan asked after a few minutes of them just standing there outside the bathroom door.

  
Seungcheol muttered something that Jeonghan didn't hear, but buggered off out of the hallway. Jeonghan turned the water on hot, and hoped it could wash off everything Seungcheol had just belted into him. He had to be at Jisoo's to meet him in half an hour.

\----------------------

Wonwoo saw the teeth marks behind Seokmin's ear, but the younger man didn't notice him notice anything.

  
He and Seokmin were lazing about on the couch in Jisoo's apartment. Jisoo was in the shower, and Wonwoo was scrolling through Jisoo's phone as it charged. There were two mute babies that Jisoo helped to look after; one of them was a little girl called Jangmi who had begun to crawl that afternoon. After Jisoo had seen him at his families work, Jisoo had popped in to see that family until seven 'o' clock. Wonwoo showed Seokmin a video of Jangmi crawling on the ground, and her mouth open in a silent squeal as she sat up on her bottom and clapped tiny, pudgy hands together. Jangmi's muteness was the result of a premature birth, wet lungs, and the fact that most of her insides - including her throat - hadn't had time to form properly in the womb, been born at 30 weeks. The Doctor's at a hospital had tried to induce a similar environment of a womb in the form of a humedi crib and the baby had been in hospital for months until she could function properly, but making sound wasn't one of those matters.

  
Seokmin and Wonwoo whipped around on the couch as the sound of Jisoo hurling echoed through the air.

  
"Shit!" Wonwoo said, and he and Seokmin dived over the back of the couch to the bathroom. Joshua was bent over the toilet with his hair still wet from the shower and fresh clothes on. He threw up more, Wonwoo hovering in the background and Seokmin tentatively rubbing Jisoo's back.

  
_Oh, for fuck's sake_ , Jisoo said down into the toilet bowl as he flushed away the horrible smelling bile, and then rinsing his mouth from the tap over the sink at the vanity.

  
"Jisoo?" Seokmin said.

  
_I don't know if I can do this,_ Jisoo said. _I'm so fucking nervous over this_

  
"Hey, hey, hey, you don't have to worry about a thing; why are you worrying? Come on." Seokmin put an arm around Jisoo and gave him a slight squeeze, but all of a sudden Jisoo was back on his knees and hurling his guts up into the toilet bowl.

  
"We're going to have to ring this guy up and tell him Soo can't come; he's sick as a dog." Wonwoo said to Seokmin. Jisoo coughed down into the bowl, and angled his arm around behind him, giving Wonwoo the finger.

  
"We're not ringing Jeonghan up then." Seokmin said.

  
"Is this his name?" Wonwoo asked. "Jeonghan?"

  
Jisoo groaned, but no sound came from his mouth. He wanted to grab his throat and just squeeze it until something human, something anyone could hear, came from it. He hated it; he absolutely fucking hated it -

  
The sound of the doorbell went in the background. Both Wonwoo and Seokmin swore, and Jisoo did to, just silently.

  
Jisoo stood up again, rinsing his mouth and washing his hands as both Seokmin and Wonwoo went off to attend to the front door. Everything was going fucking wrong.

  
Seokmin and Wonwoo were greeted by the sight of a man with long black hair, a clean shirt, and good jeans standing on the front doorstep.

  
"Hey, I'm looking for Jisoo?" he asked.

  
"You're Jeonghan, right?" Seokmin checked. Jeonghan nodded.

  
"Right, well, Soo's as sick as a dog." Seokmin commented.

  
"We're mates of his - Seokmin and Wonwoo." Wonwoo said. "Would you like to come in for a minute?"

  
"Yeah, if that's alright?" Jeonghan replied.

  
"Yeah, yeah, come in." Wonwoo ushed everyone out of the doorway and into the house.

  
"God, we're like a fucking married couple." Seokmin rolled his eyes before disappearing off towards one of the four hallways of the complicated house; one hall went to a staircase that went to the second floor, the others went anywhere and everywhere. It was like the Labyrinth met the magical wardrobe from Narnia; get into a certain spot and you cross over to any old magical land or undisguised hell-hole.

  
Wonwoo pointed to the couch and then went after Seokmin. When they went back into the bathroom Jisoo was leaning against the vanity bench, his hands gripping the edge tightly, before he completely lost the plot at Seokmin.

  
_What are the fuck is going on you fucking idiots?!_ Jisoo howled. _Why the hell did you tell him I've been sick and - oh, for fuck's sake! Jesus fucking Christ! What's wrong with you two?! Why couldn't you just bring him into the lounge room and say hold on for a fucking second?!_

  
"Jisoo, I can't lip-read you when you're yelling!" Seokmin exclaimed.

  
Wonwoo hurriedly shushed him and Jisoo waved his hands about, mimicking Jisoo.

  
_Yelling, what do you mean yelling?!_ Jisoo said. _How can I bloody yell when I've got bloody voice and I've never made a coherent fucking sound in my whole life?! Look, you two - you and Wonwoo - can stop interfering. I'm not sick, I'm fine. I know I was just throwing up in the fucking toilet but that doesn't matter! Just leave me to do my own thing and I_ \- Jisoo looked at Seokmin. _I shouldn't have had fucking sex with you if I knew this was going to happen -_

  
"Jisoo, we're not trying - me or Wonwoo - we're not trying to -" Seokmin argued.

  
_For God's sake just shut up!_ Jisoo exclaimed. _Jeonghan can hear you - he can hear fucking everything except me for of course because I can't making fucking sound! He stopped, taking in a deep breath. Look, just let me handle it, alright?_

  
Most mute people just used sign language; they never moved their mouths to these alien things called "words", a custom for everyone else but not for them. Jisoo refused to ever resort to that. He could still speak - and he had always been able to speak and always would be able to speak - but he just didn't make sound. Sound. Stupid, fucking, natural, fucking sound -

  
_Hi, how are you?_ Jisoo asked Jeonghan, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Jisoo pulled away swiftly, not wanting to coat Jeonghan in his disgusting smelling breath.

  
"Hey." Jeonghan said, smiling. "Your guys, uh...they said you'd been sick."

  
_Arseholes_ , Jisoo said to them. _You two utter bastards_

  
"Oh, piss off, piss off!" Seokmin said while Wonwoo just used one of Jisoo's trick and stuck up his middle finger. "You're fucking impossible to work with, you!"

  
For some reason that Jeonghan couldn't quite figure out, even later he was sure, he burst out laughing. As he doubled over, and then straighten up, he didn't immediately see the relieved smile blossom over Jisoo's face.

  
"I think it's an idea you start learning how to lip-read." Seokmin said to Jeonghan as Joshua held up a hand singling for a few minutes, then ran back down the hallway.

"Where were you going to go? Because it's a bit difficult, you know, with him?" Wonwoo asked. Jeonghan shrugged, hands in his pockets. They were in the kitchen, and Wonwoo had pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge.

  
"I thought that, so I figured I'd come here and just ask Jisoo what he wanted to do." Jeonghan replied. "He keeps a nice place, seeing he's by himself."

  
"Oh, no, I live here with him; we've had this place together for a couple of years now." Seokmin corrected.

  
"Oh, sorry, I didn't know." Jeonghan apologised. "He must have - he might have said, I don't think -" Jeonghan flushed, breaking off his haphazard sentence. "Nice place, though."

  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Seokmin nodded. "You get to our stage and it's about dividing up -"

  
"Tasks." Wonwoo said.

  
"Yeah, yeah, things like - we both do cooking -" Seokmin said.

  
"Cleaning, washing -" Wonwoo counted the tasks off the top of his head.

  
"And then we swap around, divide it up, keep it simple." Seokmin swung the beer bottle around in a circle as a gesture.

  
"Seokmin does stuff like vacumming -" Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck.

  
"And Soo remembers anything and everything about everybody." Seokmin grinned.

  
Including what happened, when it's starting, whose involved, who punched who, who fucked who -" Wonwoo broke off, laughing his head off.

  
"And how the crime shall be remembered." Seokmin finished, his face nearly splitting in half. "He's made the past and present his own."

  
"And he's even got onto the future." Wonwoo added.

  
"And thank fucking god because I can't get round to it." Seokmin testified, clinking he and Wonwoo's beers together.

  
Jeonghan watched and listened on in fascination as Seokmin and Wonwoo constantly overlapped each other, but they made it work. They both knew what the other one was going on about, what was been said - it was a work of fucking art.

  
"What do you do?" Jeonghan asked Seokmin.

  
"Run of the mill sports physio -" Seokmind began

  
"Who gets to look at male rugby palyers hamstrings all day and massage the backs of female footballers backs." Wonwoo said. Jeonghan laughed.

  
"Nice job." he said.

  
"£180,000 a year." Wonwoo and Seokmind replied.

  
"What about Jisoo?"

  
"Oh, half a mil." Seokmin said. He choked on his beer as Wonwoo hit him over the head.

  
"Quarter of a mil." Wonwoo corrected sternly.

  
"Quarter of a quarter of a mil." Seokmin said.

  
Oh, shut up, Jisoo said, coming into the kitchen where he had been looking for them.

  
"Why don't you buy your place?" Jeonghan asked Seokmin.

  
This is our own place, Jisoo said as Seokmin replied with the same words, except they being words full of sound.

  
"'Cause, like, Jisoo and me -" Seokmin gestured in-between them. "We just er...I mean well like, um..."

  
Come on, let's drive, Jisoo got hold of Jeonghan's arm through his. Seokmin quickly said what Jisoo had said.

  
"You can drive?" Jeonghan echoed.

  
"Yeah, he just needed a driving instructor who could lip-read and didn't have a habit of conversation." Wonwoo responded.

  
Jisoo's car was a small and cute grey Mazda CX-9. _I'll take you somewhere I like. Don't worry, you'll think it's cool,_ Jisoo told Jeonghan. Jeonghan just nodded with a smile, buckling himself into the passenger seat even though he had no idea what Jisoo had just said.

  
As they drove through the city, Jeonghan found Jisoo wasn't an idiot behind the wheel, and he drove pretty well. To fill in the silence, Jisoo put on the radio, and R&B playing in English went out into the air. Jeonghan didn't know the song personally, but he liked it.

  
_You like Jason Durelo?_ Jisoo asked.

  
"Yeah, it's a good song." Jeonghan replied, leaning his hand against his hand with his elbow sat up by the window. As if reading a part of his mind, Jisoo put all four windows down in the car, and it made Jeonghan laugh.

  
This guy was really cool.

  
Even if his hair was going to be a mess by the time they got to wherever they were going.

  
"Where's this?" Jeonghan asked as they pulled up outside a very grand Edwardian style set of three story terraces. Jisoo pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to type.

  
_I've got a friend who has turned her old house - this terrace straight there - into one gigantic art piece. Have a look inside, it's so cool :)_

  
Jeonghan was incredibly touched by that little emoji. He got out of the passenger side of the car and looked over the Mazda's roof at the Edwardian style terrace, before walking around the front of the car and joining Jisoo as he waved a set of jingling keys. Jisoo unlocked a small blue-painted wrought iron gate then walked up stone steps to the front door and grinned as he un-locked the front door and pocketed the keys. Jeonghan made a soft sound of surprise and awe as they stepped inside. Over-run inside the house were faerie lights and ivy moon and other creepers that had blossomed with the summer heart in shades of violet and cream white and burgundy red. The railway hallway was long with floorboards but at the end of it was a hall that led off directly ahead and then another two halls that went off in left-side directions. 

  
On the wall a Scandinavian child's face, neck, and shoulders filled the entire wall; her hair floated as though underwater, and the paint - the paint itself was remarkable. There was something in the paint that it glow like phsophorus in the night. The child's eyes were blue-green and in their depths, orange and white an grey, and her skin was creamy white and flawless, tinged with silver and grey in the half-darkness. Her hair was light blonde and painted with great detail, looking utterly realistic, and the scale of it had Jeonghan in awe. On the ceiling above were roses painted on flaking white painter, with creeper going in swirling patterns and reaching limbs across the ceiling from the opposite wall, which was just thick with plant and brightly tinted blooms. Come with me, Jisoo said, beckoning. Where the hallways started the floor was tiled and in essentially was a circular space. A large and wide staircase began at the far side of the room but twisted around above the hallway entrances to the other parts of the house. The wall beneath the stairs showed the Scandinavian girl who jeonghan thought must be the subject for the whole house; one wall showed her running a field full of tall, dry grasses and wildflowers, in a traditional white dress with red embroidery along the hem-line, neck, and sleeves. Tangled up in her blonde hair were bits of lace and red ribbon, and in another wall it showed her sleeping peacefully on a rug in front of a fireplace, on arm over her stomach and another arm above her head, her infantile skin flushed by the flames. There were skylights built into the ceiling and surrounded walls; they were dusty and gave the feeling of being abandoned even though Jeonghan realized this was a function art gallery of sorts. Creeper grew in through the skylights and the windows from outside, but also on the inside it invaded everywhere, twisting itself happily around the staircase's wrought iron banister and framing the paintings of the Scandinavian child with a nurturing sort of sensibility in the way it had grown and been teased to not cover the artwork. Jisoo tugged on Jeonghan's arm, and his mouth moved in silent words again that Jeonghan couldn't understand.

  
Jisoo brought him into what would have been a drawing room, and Jeonghan felt himself gasp. A whole underwater scene split through with Universe was painted across all the available walls and the ceiling in a style like Gustav Klimt, except the faces of the people shown were entirely realistic, more with the previously seen personal style of Jisoo's friend. Each of the four available walls were painter as the middle ocean, lapses of blue water that looked as it did when you open your eyes beneath the surface. On the walls it showed women - all Korean - with black hair and traditional features swimming amidst the water in on-piece, solid colour bathing suits, with smiling faces and oxygen bubbles coming from their noses. The women painted were of a scale size, a real-life size. But on the ceiling was a universe painted; a inky black sea with white and silver flecks of immortal life painted amongst it all.

  
"What's your friends name?" Jeonghan asked Jisoo, imagining some young man with dreadlocks and paint stained under his fingertips in denim cords and doc martens and a white t-shirt; he would be foreign, probably Scandinavian like the child painter in the hall and by the stairs, but Jeonghan imagined him dark-haired and with a beard beginning to grow.

  
_Cristina Dontraeovsky_ , Jisoo typed on his phone. Jeonghan blinked. For some reason, it made better sense it was a girl. Jisoo scrolled on his phone, and brought up an image for Jeonghan to see; he found himself looking down at a fine-boned woman with large black eyes and a full mouth bear red-lipstick and frizzy black hair with a slim, button-mushroom nose and Serbian cheekbones. 

  
_Want to see more?_ Jisoo asked.

\--------------------

Seungcheol stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, and knew he wasn't been an idiot for wondering how the fuck it was going with Jisoo and Jeonghan. He could just imagine them walking along a street or in a park somewhere, in dead, awkward silence as Jeonghan fucked up on Jisoo and Jisoo could only do what he could do. 

\---------------------

"This has been so amazing." Jeonghan laughed a bit, gazing between the night sky above them and down to Joshua. They were standing out together on the balcony that came out from the master bedroom, curtains blowing behind them in a gentle breeze that went through the air around them, feeling good on Joshua's skin and combing it's fingers through Jeonghan's long hair.

  
_I'm glad you like it. I had no idea about where we could go, and then I remembered about having the keys for Cristina's place, Joshua said. I've known Cristina for a few years; you see quite a few Russians and Ukrainians come down to Korea and Japan through China. She bought this terrace house here, and she just painted it up inside._

  
"What's down the hall? We didn't see in any of the bedrooms." Jeonghan quipped to Jisoo.

  
_Yeah, I just didn't want you to see - not on the first date. It's creepy_ , Jisoo told him, but Jeonghand disappeared off by himself. On the first room on the left from the Master bedroom which was almost like a little Handmaiden's room, Jeonghan stopped.

  
On the wall was a painting. The painting showed Jisoo sitting cross-legged on the floor in black Doc Martens, black skinny jeans, and a black button up shirt; the painted Jisoo was looking up at him, eyes looking wet and bitter and dark while a pink carnation grew from his mouth.

  
Jisoo of life leant against the doorway as Jeonghan stared down at the painted him.

  
One the opposite wall Cristina herself was painted as a dress, her skin of bark and up to her hips she was a tree-trunk in a deep forest; the face of her as a tree was faintly avatar like with elevated ears and sculpted bones and full lips with slightly slanted eyes and dreadlocked hair that was all vines and branches and leaves.

  
Jisoo tried to hum, but no sound came out, just a change of breath. Jeonghan looked around.

  
_I was very sad when I met Cristina. I thought about hanging myself a few time, swimming down as deep as I could in a lake and staying down there for a few minutes_ , Jisoo continued. His chest ached as well as his head that any confession he made - no one would ever know. No one could ever tell, no one could ever understand his silence. _Seokmin was nearly at the point of just cutting me off entirely because he couldn't do anything and I've never been able to do anything. I couldn't eat, couldn't drink. I got very ill inside. I just hated it; I couldn't live without been able to make sound. I always get that way sometimes. When you've never been able to do something so natural and perfect and human, it kills you inside and eats at you while you're very raw. It hurts even more because you're raw. It's just how it is. You learn to live with it. For when it comes and goes, you've got to be kind to it, that little black bird on your shoulder._

  
_Honestly, I'm amazed Seokmin didn't leave me. You most as well have been existing with a corpse._

  
Jisoo looked down at the ground, before wandering off away through the house.

  
_I just didn't want you to see that room, Jeonghan_. He said. _I wish you just hadn't fucked off on me._

  
"Jisoo!" Jeonghan yelled. "Jisoo!"

  
Jisoo turned around at the bottom of the stairs, looking up as Jeonghan raced down the stairs to get to him. He was panting slightly as he spoke. "Look, I'm sorry. You didn't show me in there for a reason, and I shouldn't have gone in there. I'm sorry -" Jeonghan looked at Jisoo for a moment, before coming to hold his face in his hands and kissing him.

  
Joshua was suddenly aware that outside it was pissing down rain.

\------------------------

"Why are you worried?" Seokmin said soothingly to Wonwoo, pointing at the clock. "They've only been gone an hour and a half."

  
"Yeah, a hour and a half with a mute." Wonwoo pointed out. "For fuck's sake, Seokmin, it doesn't work like this."

  
"Jisoo'll be fine." Seokmin said.

  
"You don't actually believe that." Wonwoo said, reading Seokmin's tone.

\----------------------

Jisoo made out with Jeonghan against the wrought iron railing of Cristina's staircase, Jeonghan's tongue in his mouth, sliding against his teeth and the roof of his mouth and his own tongue. Jisoo was glad he didn't smell like vomit and filth anymore; while Wonwoo and Seokmin were talking to Jeonghan and keeping him busy in the kitchen, Jisoo had jumped back into the shower and had washed off all the sweat and had brushed his teeth and cleaned the rest of his mouth to within and inch of his life.

  
"You wanna go home?" Jeonghan asked Jisoo. Jisoo nodded, his face nearly splitting in half with a grin.

\---------------------

Jeonghan walked face-first into a lamp pole in the darkness. Jisoo nearly pissed himself laughing. _What a fucking idiot_ , he thought to himself. _Gorgeous one. Fucking idiot, though. What a moron. How am I going to last all of this out with him?_

  
_Come here_! He shouted.

  
Jeonghan laughed in the darkness, a bright and vibrant sound as Jisoo opened the front door and wrangled the two of them inside. Jisoo was just kicking off his shoes as Jeonghan leant against the wall in the front hall, talking to him ditzily, when Seokmin and Wonwoo appeared, looking ruffled and startled.

  
_Sorry to wake you guys up_ , Jisoo said. 

  
"I live here!" Seokmin protested.

  
_So do I, so you're going to have to put up with me, then_ , Jisoo walked up the hall and affectionately messed up Seokmin's hair before walking Jeonghan back outside. Before they went out onto the footpath, Jeonghan pulled at the sleeve of Jisoo's t-shirt.

  
"If I talk silently - you know, just move my mouth to the words - can you still understand me?" Jeonghan asked him curiously.

  
Jisoo nodded. _Yeah, that's what lip-reading is_ , he said. _It works both ways; I get Seokmin and he gets me, and Wonwoo's a bit slower at figuring out what I'm saying but he gets simple things like "yes", "no, "get fucked", "you're an arsehole", that kind of thing._

  
Jeonghan didn't know what Jisoo said, but his chuckle must have been a suitable reply because Jisoo kissed him again.

\-------------------

Jangmi gave out a silent, happy squeal, huge dark brown eyes twinkling as only babies eyes did as Jisoo picked her up out of her basinett sitting on the coffee table in the sitting room. The Kim's house was very beautiful, all wood and white-wash and old-worldly Scandinavian homeliness. 

  
_You're a very lucky girl to be growing up in such a pretty house_ , Jisoo told her, her body pressed against his chest with one of her tiny hands holding onto the fabric of his shirt. It was very hot that day, and the air conditioner had made the house cool compared to outside. Jangmi gave a chubby faced smiled, and Jisoo kissed the top of her head. He was baby-sitting her while her parents were at a Uncle's wedding; he didn't mind it at all. Jangmi and her parents had been a bit of a complicated case; Jangmi had fallen sick a few times but it had gone un-noticed because she didn't cry or give any sign that a sick child might. When she had been new-born, her Mother was crying her eyes out everyday at the kitchen table over "this hopeless, hopeless bloody baby". That was where Jisoo had come in; whose better at looking after a mute baby than a mute person?

  
"I thought we might have a girl." Jangmi's Father had said when Jisoo had turned up, before visibly kicking himself inside for giving such a abrupt remark to a person who was as mute as his child. Father had let him inside, and had given him the first of a few lectures to come.

  
_You don't often see mute women_ , Jisoo had typed on his phone. _Just from personal experience; most mutes are guys. Most women that go mute are due to trauma or sugery - tumors been taken off their brains, of after a really bad event - death of a child or spouse, for exmaple. If you don't want a guy to look after *rose*, that's completely fine. But the only two mute girls we have - one is seventy-five and already looks after three little ones, and the other is from Croatia._

  
"But you have some sort of senior...person?" The Father had further remarked.

  
_The clinic and the clinic's services are run by a German paediatrician, Peter Weiss, who is also Jangmi's personal pediatrician; you're clients to his practice and his hand. This is recognised by family council and healthcare, not disability support services. My muteness and Jangmi's muteness is on account of premature birth complications, not a learning disorder, mental retardation, or psychomotor disfunction like the palsy syndromes or multiple sclerosis, MND etc_ , Jisoo had replied.

  
"How are you trained to look after babies?" The Father had asked. 

  
_I'll get to that, but can I ask where your wife is?_

  
"She's upstairs sleeping with Jangmi." Father replied. "I - uh - I'll wake her in a few minutes."

  
_No problem_ , Jisoo answered. _Has she been awake all night with Jangmi?_

  
Father nodded, looking quite hollow. "She's perfect, my little girl...but, we...we just don't know." Father had turned away with one hand on his hip and another over his eyes as they involuntarily watered heavily on him.

  
_Don't be worried, it's ok. You've got some help now, come on, sit down. You need a drink, and don't worry about me being a man. They say men raise kids better, anyway,_ Jisoo said, but Father had no idea about any of that. Jisoo let out a particularly heavy exhale, and pointed to the kitchen table. It was a long sandalwood bench with old church pews as seats either side. Jisoo liked the style, and wondered then what sort of woman his wife was when she had an interior design flare like this.

  
_Sometimes mute people have to make noises and gestures - clapping their hands, heavy breaths, eye rolls, stamping feet, closing doors loudly, prodding your shoulder - to get things across,_ Jisoo quickly typed. Father read the text blearily, before smiling a small bit. _How do you like you're tea?_

  
"Oh, no, you don't have to do that. I'm fine." Father gave a deep-throated chuckle, wiping his eyes.

  
_I help with the babies but I help with Mum and Dad too. You look like no milk and no sugar, right?_

  
Father eventually nodded, and Jisoo set about the task in the kitchen.

  
It wasn't long after that that a handsome woman - definitely not a ulzzang beauty, but handsome never the less in a traditional Korean way - came down the stairs in a long denim skirt, a cotton top, and a grey wool cardigan with a very small but altogether well put together baby in her arms, wrapped up in a lambswool blanket. It had been the middle of winter then. Mother's eyes were swollen and black and watery from lack of sleep, her skin had a grey tinge to it, and her black hair was pulled back in a lank ponytail at the base of her neck.

  
"Hello." Mother managed, though very soft. Jisoo could tell she was trying her best to keep with the program, but she was just about ready to drop off the face of the Earth. She gave Jangmi to her Father, and slowly collapsed down into a chair. "You look different to how I thought, love." She said. Mother was older than Father. Father was about twenty-five or six, and she was easily thirty-one. Actually, that was definitely her age; Jisoo remembered the talk from Peter Weiss at the clinic.

  
_Did you expect me to be a girl?_ He asked.

  
"I haven't seen boys called Jisoo in a long time; that's the only reason." She replied. She glowed quite tenderly, and Jisoo saw before him the perfect Mother and Wife that everyone would immediately shit-can. "I should have known different with Peter Weiss, sorry about that." She looked over him intently. "You're quite young, love."

  
Jisoo smiled. _It doesn't seem right, does it? Is it alright if I ask you something?_

  
"Yes, yes, of course." Mother's milk swollen breasts not in a bra just brushed the table as she leant forward to read the phone's screen, and Jisoo pushed it closer for her, but not so the Father couldn't read it also.

  
_Do you talk to her much?_

  
"Well, um...well, of course we do." Both the parents mumbled together.

  
_Some people mistake muteness for deafness. Just because Jangmi can't communicate sound it doesn't mean she's deaf. It's important for you to talk to her and have sound; the TV going, the radio on, having people around. Apart from a few small things, she's a perfect baby_

  
Mother smiled warmly, though worn through, resting her face in her palm, her eyes twinkling. "No one says that." She said, her tone still soft. "They say that we should organize a coffin because she won't make it, and then we should give her to a home."

  
_Don't listen to what nurses say_ , Jisoo typed. _They're wrong about everything_

  
Father chuckled, giving Jisoo Jangmi to cradle in his arms. Jisoo typed with one hand, Jangmi supported perfectly. He noticed both her parents pick up on that.

  
_Have you ever heard Peter rant on about dumbarse nurses?_ Jisoo asked them. This time, they both laughed.

  
"Yes, he doesn't like them at all." Mother smiled.

  
"Children of the devil, he says." Father quipped, before they both laughed more.

  
_Oh, look, she's laughing!_ Jisoo said as Jangmi's eyes opened up and her mouth came open at the sight of her parents, two tiny arms working free of the blanket which she was cocooned in. Jisoo quickly typed it on his phone, and both the parents made an "Oh" sound as they realized what he had meant. It was as thought that one move was the decision for them; they talked more, then rang up Peter Weiss at the clinic, asking for Jisoo to come and help.

  
Jisoo turned on the television and flicked about to see what was on back in the present day, sitting down cross-legged on a oatmeal-coloured shag-pile rug in the sitting room on which the coffee table and the two two-seater leather couches sat, positioned together like a right angle. Jangmi squirmed just a little, reaching to play with the buttons on the remote. In the end, Jisoo gave up and put on a DVD.

  
_Hey, "The Magic Possum" is on_ , Jisoo said to her. Jangmi sung silently and wriggled about even more as the sight of her favourite show came onto the television screen; it was a children's cartoon about a grandmother possum and a grandbaby possum from Australia who trekked all around the country eating Australian foods to make them not invisible - Jisoo didn't quite get it, but it seemed that the grandbaby possum had eaten something to make him invisible, and with each vegemite sandwich, pavlova, and potato peel pie, bits of his came back to coloured life. Tail, paws, ears, for instance. However it went about, Jangmi absolutely loved it.

  
An hour later, the phone rang. Father was having a fit on the end of the phone and Mother was in tears.

  
"Oh, shit, sorry!" Father exclaimed, having forgotten their was no use calling Jisoo because he couldn't speak. Seconds later, a series of agitated texts came through on his phone. The wedding had been out of the city in the country, but something had gone wrong - it started with cows flooding field then a torrtential downpour of rain which was followed up the bride's Rolls Royce getting bogged...along with the cars of 180 other guests. Then the priest had got himself into a drunken stupor and had climbed into one of the guests cars to have a sleep, then had "gone to the bathroom" in his underwear and cassock...in the back seat of the Range Rover he had climbed into. The long and short of it was that the wedding was a complete disaster and would he be alright to look after Jangmi for that night because they wouldn't be back in Seoul until noon-time tomorrow?  
Jisoo knew he was treading on thin ice when he asked, _Would you like me to stay over at the house, or -_

  
He canceled the text message, and typed instead, _No problem, I'll look after Jangmi_

  
Suddenly, his phone nearly exploded out of his hand as it vibrated with incoming text messages. These ones were obviously from Mother. She was fretting about where Jisoo was going to sleep and if there was food there for him, and there should be enough nappies, yes, there should be enough nappies and was he - he had come in his own car, right? He hadn't caught the bus this time?

  
In the end after five minutes of silence in which Jisoo knew both of them were talking, another much calmer text came through. 

  
_Is it alright if Jangmi came back to your house for tonight?_

  
Jisoo realized then how he had never told them he shared the house with Seokmin - not that Soekmin was a problem - but no way would they have agreed to let their baby go home to a shared house. Jisoo also realized just how much they trusted him with Jangmi's welfare; completely and utterly. He thanked God that they had come to this decision.  
Jisoo put Jangmi into her basinett after checking her nappy and brought her upstairs. He left the basinett on the bed in the master bedroom where her parents slept and played music on his phone to keep her company as he got a spare bag out of the wardrobe and filled it up with the essentials of taking care of a baby - nappies, wipes, nappy cream, baby powder, the tin powder formula that Jangmi took with warm water in her bottles - which Jisoo dived down to the kitchen and got. He packed in a spare romper suit plus a pair of tiny trousers and a shirt and socks for her the next day, plus a few of her toys and a tiny glass bottle of vanilla essence that was kept under the sink in the master bedroom's ensuite. It was her Mother's smell; the woman put a dot of it behind each of her ears and on one of her wrists each morning. Mother put it into Jangmi bath water as well. Jisoo went into the bathroom; Jangmi would need a bath tonight as well. Which means the tub would get packed as well. Thank God I did drive this morning, he thought to himself.

  
He picked up his phone and texted Seokmin, smiling down at Jangmi as her drummed against the blanket as she wriggled about; all babies did that.

  
_Don't have a party tonight; Jangmi is coming home with me tonight (on of the babies). Long story, I'll explain when I'm home. Clear notice; a baby is staying at our place tonight_  
Jisoo sent the message and picked Jangmi up from her basinet and let her have a slow crawl around on the bed.

  
Seokmin texted back a few minutes later.

  
_Ok, that's alright. Wonwoo's here_

  
_You told him, right?_ Jisoo asked.

  
_Yep._

  
A pause.

  
_Send us a pic._

  
_We're coming home, now_ , Jisoo told him.

  
_Ok_ , Seokmin answered, then added, _WW says hi_

  
_Jangmi says hi_ , Jisoo grinned as the baby gurgled out silently and huffed a sigh, laying on her tummy beside his thigh.

  
_New house tonight_ , Jisoo said to her. _You get to see the inside of my house. He picked her up. What do you think about that, cutie?_

  
Jangmi smiled in a way that made her eyes crinkle up, and she curled in a ball, tucking her arms and bringing her feet up, her knees towards her chubby tummy and chest.

\----------------------

Wonwoo, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Hansol, Jeonghan and Jisoo gazed down at Jangmi in her basinet.

  
"She's the cutest thing alive." Jeonghan grinned at Jisoo, who smiled happily.

  
"Hello..." Wonwoo reached down and his middle finger was suddenly caught and grasped onto by Jangmi's tiny fist. Seokmin blew her kisses, and Jisoo laughed. He knew it really wasn't in his nature, but he had expected Jangmi to be given a wide birth; the strange little creature in the nappy.

  
As soon as it was found out that a baby was going to be in the house that night, Wonwoo and Seokmin had called up Hansol and Jisoo had sent Jeonghan a text; Jeonghan had asked if he wanted to come around, and Jisoo had said about Jangmi, which meant that Jeonghan turned up with Seungcheol.

  
"She's gorgeous." Hansol grinned widely, and for a second, Jeonghan and Seungcheol were taken aback. Hansol was slightly scary when he smiled; his eyes disappeared entirely and both rows of teeth plus all his gums were on show. 

  
"Babies are funny things, aren't they?" Seokmin said aloud.

  
_You don't want to hold her, then?_ Jisoo inquired.

  
"What?" Seokmin blinked.

  
_I was going to ask you if you wanted to hold her, but nevermind -_

  
"Gimme, gimme, gimme the bubba." Seokmin ordered.

  
Hansol, Seungcheol and Wonwoo laughed, and Jeonghan stepped out of the way so Jisoo could picked up Jangmi, and then put her into Seokmin's arms.

  
"Oh, wow..." Seokmin said softly as Jisoo showed him how to cradle Jangmi's body while supporting her head, and, suddenly, he was doing it. Wonwoo and Hansol pulled out their phones to take photo's, then called for Jangmi to go into Jisoo's arms so they could get a photo of them two, too.

  
"Is she going to sleep in that thing?" Jeonghan asked.

  
_She'll sleep in my bed with me_ , Jisoo typed on his phone.

  
"Is that how it usually works?" Seungcheol asked.

  
_She's a mute baby; she doesn't make any sound at all, not even when she cries. It's easier to be able to look after her that way; it's the only way with mute babies_ , Jisoo replied. He knew Seungcheol wasn't having a go, but it still annoyed him. Seokmin translated. Jisoo pulled up a bag onto the couch and fetched out the nappy cream, a plastic bag, the wipes, and a fresh nappy.

  
"She alright?" Hansol asked.

  
_She's had a wee, I need to change her!_ Jisoo rolled his eyes. _She's still a baby, Hansol_

  
Hansol had the grace to blush but chuckled nevertheless; he could lip-read like Seokmin. Seokmin translated for Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Wonwoo's benefits. Everyone parted like the red sea as Jisoo hovered around.

  
_What is it?_ Hansol spoke like Jisoo, without sound.

  
_I need to change her somewhere_ , he said. _I - oh, fuck it_

  
_There's alright_ , Seokmin pointed at the coffee table.

  
_Hey, yeah, is that alright?_ Jisoo adjusted Jangmi in his arms.

  
Seokmin nodded vigorously. _All rules abandoned; we've got a baby in the house_

  
Hansol and Jisoo laughed, then Hansol quickly filled in everyone else who laughed too.

  
"Why are we staying here?" Jeonghan wrinkled his nose. "Ew, let's go."

  
Jisoo clapped his hands, getting their attention. Can someone get me a tea-towel to put her down on? he asked, kneeling down on the ground, Seokmin stuck up his thumbs and ran up on of the halls to the laundry.

  
"This is amazing." Jeonghan whispered to Seungcheol in the kitchen.

  
"Yeah, it is." Seungcheol nodded. "She seems happy with him; the baby, I mean."

  
"I wonder if - you know. With Jangmi's parents and the others, I wonder if they ever, you know, sort of...hate Jisoo." Jeonghan awkwardly said all of a sudden.

  
"Why?" Seungcheol asked.

  
"Because he can take care of their babies better than they can." Jeonghan quipped.

  
Seungcheol and Jeonghan thought about that.

\--------------------

The next time that any of them dared to venture into the sitting room, Jisoo was lying lengthways on the couch with Jangmi asleep on his chest. Jisoo appeared to be asleep until one eye opened up and looked at the sticky-beaking Hansol, Wonwoo and Seokmin. 

  
_Better say goodbye to Seungcheol and Jeonghan, then, if you're tired_ , Hansol said.

  
_What do you think of them?_ Jisoo asked Hansol, opening both his eyes to half-lids. Hansol shrugged. 

  
_They're alright guys_ , Hansol answered. _That's one fucking cute baby, by the way_ , he pointed down to Jangmi's tiny body. Jisoo beamed.

  
I'll get Wonwoo and the others, Seokmin said, before disappearing off.

  
_How have you been?_ Jisoo asked. Hansol nodded. _You don't have to go, by the way; it's only just after five. I'm not tired, it's just...when you've got a baby sleeping on you're chest one day, you'll get it._

  
That made Hansol crack a smile. _Pretty good; you seem like you're doing pretty good_

  
Jisoo smiled. _Yeah, I think I am. He paused. Do you remember Cristina Dontraeovsky?_

  
Hansol nodded again.

  
_I showed Jeonghan her painted house for our first date. He thought it was so cool. I can never thank you enough for introducing me to her_

  
Hansol shrugged. _It's no problem, you know that. You two talking much, lately?_

  
Jisoo would have shrugged too, but he couldn't with Jangmi on his chest. _On and off. You know how she is. Don't hear from her at all for twelve weeks and suddenly Instagram is exploding, you know what I mean?_

  
Hansol grinned a bit. _Yeah, Soo._

  
_Yeah._ Jisoo smiled too. Hansol found Jisoo gazing intently at him, but then Jisoo looked down to Jangmi on his chest. He glanced up but by that time Hansol had moved over to the back of the couch and had leant over; Jisoo's eyes slipped to a close as Hansol's mouth brushed over his forehead in a kiss, before touching his mouth. Over the years, Jisoo really had got it on with everyone; he had worked through them like a list. All the friends and acquaintences and proper mates. Hansol pulled back and looked down at him, and Jisoo returned it.

  
All of a sudden a few moments later, the warm silence was broken by Jangmi letting loose a massive fart in her sleep. She woke up grumpily as Hansol nearly pissed himself laughing on the spot and Jisoo's chest - her mattress - jumped up and down with silent laughter. Her gorgeous little face crinkled up into a silent cry, and Jisoo cuddled her, shushing her with a funny wheezing sound that echoed from his lungs, not his voicebox that was something that had never come about in his body. 

  
_You're ok, just..._ Jisoo trailed off as he saw how much Jangmi's nappy had puffed up from her fart. He pointed at it, and Hansol laughed even harder. Seokmin came into the sitting room with Wonwoo, Seungcheol and Jeonghan to find a very grumpy baby and two adults men having hysterics.

  
"You hear the fart she did?" Hansol barely managed to all of them, before sitting over the side of the couch and landing with his head by Jisoo's crossed legs and his legs dangling over the side arm of the couch. Jisoo hooked his thumb in the top of Jangmi's nappy and gave it a vent; the nappy visibly deflated, and he giggled as everyone else looked absolutely stunned.

  
Oh, no...from the poisioned gas that was.

  
"Fucking hell, what have you been feeding that baby?!" Hansol coughed and spluttered as everyone else edged over to one side of the sitting room, and even Jisoo had to admit the smell was revolting as he patted Jangmi's bottom and tried his best to calm her down. She was really chucking a row now, and Jisoo knew that if she was able to make sound, all of them plus the neighbours would be stone deaf. They all waited patinetly while Jisoo got Jangmi back to a soothed state, and he stood up. He moved his way around the couch and held out a arm to Jeonghan, bringing him in closer and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  
_Tell him I'll go out with him tomorrow night when Jangmi's back with her Mum and Dad,_ Jisoo said, before going up the hallway to the stairs to his bedroom.

\-----------------------

Jeonghan came up with Jisoo to his bedroom as Jisoo put three pillows together in a triangle shape and tucked a now again very sleepy Jangmi into the centre of it, covering her tiny body with a blanket. Jisoo flicked up his eyebrows and smiled a bit. He crossed across the room and kissed Jeonghan on his mouth, his eyes slipping to a close just a bit as he did.

  
_Hey,_ Jisoo said.

  
"Hey." Jeonghan replied quietly as to not wake up Jangmi. He glanced over Jisoo's shoulder at the sleeping infant, then back to Jisoo's eyes. He loved those eyes. 

  
_Oh, fuck, I left something in the car!_ Jisoo exclaimed. He slipped around a startled Jeonghan and went down the stairs. Jeonghan followed him out of the front door as well.

  
Seokmin gazed sadly down at Jisoo's figure walking along off the street with Jeonghan from a window in the sitting room. "If he could only understand what Soo was saying he'd find him the funniest guy in the whole world." He said to Wonwoo, Hansol and Seungcheol.

  
Seungcheol stayed silent. He knew Jeonghan wouldn't practise lip-reading; he would find it too difficult to try and understand. There was no way he'd be able to master it, or even just get into the rhythm of it. He wasn't a natural to it like Seokmin and Hansol. It made Seungcheol wonder even more if he was a natural fit for Jisoo, then. Seungcheol forced his mind off the subject, personally not giving a fuck. It was like watching a train crash waiting to happen. Jeonghan was selfish and cold and he was just a young man; Jisoo's "throat problem" had made a equal delight and misery of him; it had made him much older than he was. They were alike each other, but there was a huge fucking gap that one of them was going to fall into. Seungcheol found himself - even hypothetically - not surprised at the vision of Jisoo getting sick of Jeonghan and kicking him in the ankle, then shoving him into the ravine.

  
But, then, he had the same image of Jeonghan doing it to Jisoo, and then Soekmin, Hansol and Wonwoo coming along with bits of chain and a baseball bat to clock Jeonghan with, before also shoving him down into the ravine.

  
And where was he? Probably shoving Jeonghan into the ravine as well.

  
"Jisoo?" Jeonghan asked as Jisoo leant over in the back seat, and pulled out a bag stuffed into a large, plastic tub.

  
_Tell you inside_ , Jisoo said. He couldn't type up about having to bath Jangmi - his phone was inside - and he knew Jeonghan wouldn't quite get it otherwise. So, back inside he went and Jeonghan followed him along like a duckling.

  
Over the course of the rest of the night, it drew a crowd of all when Jisoo was bathing her - then crowd left just as quickly when they realized a second later that they'd be looking at a naked baby girl. Wonwoo and filmed when Jisoo put Jangmi into Hansol's arms and let him give her her bottle.

  
"Jesus Christ..." Hansol said softly as he did the task. Jisoo watched on.

 _You're doing a really good job_ , he told Hansol.

  
_I never really thought of you as like a Dad-type person,_ Seokmin said.

  
_Not my own kids probably, but Jangmi...yeah, she's lovely_ , Jisoo replied.

  
"What are we saying?" Wonwoo asked, trying to pick up.

  
"I was just saying how I never asscioated paternalism with Soo." Seokmin explained. Wonwoo laughed.

  
"Less money if it's someone elses baby." He said. Jisoo grinned. There was some truth in that remark.

\----------------------

Jangmi woke up several times throughout the night for what seemed to be the proverbial "chat" - which also woke up Hansol. Even more so, with Jangmi staying over that night, it seemed that everyone else was too; Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Wonwoo and Hansol.

  
_You still want to be a Dad before you're thirty-five?_ Jisoo asked as Hansol groaned wearily on the third time, walking laps of his bedroom in his underwear and a over-size shirt, patting Jangmi's back as she cried, completely grizzly out of boredom, and the lack of her Mum and Dad.

  
Trying to give Hansol some peace, Jisoo left and went downstairs with the silent but nevertheless very upset baby in his arms. He turned on the lights of the sitting room downstairs, and immediately blinded Seungcheol and Jeonghan into awakening. Seungcheol and Jeonghan were curled up on the couch with Seungcheol spooning Jeonghan. Sorry guys, baby in a really bad mood here, Jisoo apologised. Jisoo found the bag that he had packed the vanilla essence to, and with Jangmi sobbing her heart out into his shirt, she didn't notice him wet his finger with some of the essence and dab it onto his chest. Within about thirty seconds, the smell grew stronger from Jisoo's skin and the bottle having been opened. She wiped her nose and her eyes on Jisoo's shirt, then cuddled in closer to him, smelling her Mum.

  
"That calms her down?" Seungcheol asked. Jisoo nodded. "Wow, that's cool. I've never seen that before."

  
_Thanks for staying but if you'd gone home at least you'd get some sleep_ , Jisoo said before carrying the now sleeping - again, and hopefully for hours yet - baby back upstairs. He slipped into the bed back inside Hansol, who had a lamp turned on. Jisoo rested Jangmi back into her cocoon of pillows, and settled down beside Hansol.

  
"Hm." Hansol hummed. "You smell great. Like...vanilla, or something, I dunno."

  
So Hansol wouldn't have to open his eyes and wake up, Jisoo traced the letters of the word "Yeah" on Hansol's arm. But that only made Hansol's eyes open up. "What's that?"

  
_Sleep language_ , Jisoo said. _Can't you figure out the letters into words when I trace them?_

  
Hansol gazed at him. "Alright." He said.

  
_What?_ Jisoo didn't get it.

  
"Nah, nothing. Just thought you were doing something else and I thought, "Huh, that's a bit perverted because, like, there's a baby - someone elses baby - right down there." Hansol replied.

  
_Fucking idiot_ , Jisoo commented. He wasn't actually angry, but he didn't like what Hansol had said.

  
"And you're supposed to be with Jeonghan." Hansol added.

  
_I need to give that time,_ Jisoo replied.

  
"Because he doesn't get you yet, or because you don't get him yet?" Hansol quipped.

  
_What if I regret just a little bit about showing him Cristina's place?_ Jisoo answered. _Even though there was literally nothing else we could have done for a date because I'm fucking mute and soundless and always have been and always will be and I'm dying for some sex and a proper relationship all the time even though everyone always get fucked around and everything always gets fucked up and completely destroyed just all the fucking time?_

  
"A lot of f-bombs, there." Hansol diagnosed accurately. Jisoo stopped looking at him, and instead looked down at Jangmi. She was sleeping soundly. "Let's try and go to sleep, hey? We've been up most of the night."

  
No matter what boundaries and rules and courtesies and decencies, Jisoo lay beside Hansol on the bed, so close together that their noses touched. Jisoo gave it up after a minute and turned over; Hansol's breath smelt absolutely fucking revolting and it was all he could breathe in.

\----------------------------

Sometimes when he was completely by himself, Jisoo would let music play he liked, and he'd move his mouth along to the words, and for a blisfull, dreamscape moment it was like he was making the sound that projected out the world, acoustic instrumental and synthetic discography - all of it. He thought about Cristina Dontraeovsky and wondered if he should send her a text and see if she replied. He wouldn't mind knowing about what she thought about Jeonghan. 

  
He knew without doubt that Jeonghan would want sex that night. Jisoo wanted it too, but it was on a different scale and produced from a different internal concept.  
Jisoo knew Jeonghan had no understanding of what it was to have sex with a mute person, and a person as mute as him; there was utter silence. No words, no moans, no whines, no screams; apart from the sound of heavy breath and slapping skin, that was it. Jeonghan would fuck up and expect him to make sound, and it would shock him when he didn't. Jisoo knew all of this and he knew that Jeonghan didn't get it like this. Every-time they saw each other...well, he looked so normal, didn't he? He was pretty like a girl and so normal. Jisoo could tell that Jeonghan didn't associate the muteness, the silence, with him, but then it came back around every-time -

  
Jisoo shook his head sharply. He could already sense the disappointment of later that night, but there was no option of bailing out - not that Jisoo would. That wasn't his style. But, then, what style did a mute have?

  
"Soo?" Seokmin touched his neck and his shoulders, shaking him. Jisoo realized he had space out at the bottom of the stairs, and for God knows how long had just been looking upwards with a dark and bitter expression on his face as the only voice he knew and could recognise as his - identify with and say was his voice - murmured things in his head that made him feel revolting.

  
_Sorry_ , Jisoo ducked his head and turned around. All of a sudden, he just wanted to scream, and he wanted to scream and make sound. He just apologised to his best friend and the guy had no idea. Jisoo wanted to punch something, set something on fire, kill himself, anything. He just wanted to make fucking sound. Simple fucking sound, how hard was that? Why the fuck did he have to be denied it? Why did he have to be so fucked up inside when it had all happened before he was born, still inside his Mother's stomach -

  
"Jisoo, Jisoo, calm down, calm down." Seokmin said at the thunderstorms that rolled in Jisoo's eyes. "Talk to me, hey, come on now, talk to me about it, what's wrong?"

  
_That's the thing - I can't fucking talk_! Jisoo yelled, shoving Seokmin and his hands away from him. _I can't make fucking sound and I've never been able to and when will you, fucking Wonwoo, Seungcheol, Hansol and stupid fucking stupid faggot Jeonghan get that?!_

  
Jisoo breathed heavily. The sound of his breath was the only sound he had ever made. _Can't you see how this fucking kills me inside?! He demanded bitterly. I can't do anything, can't be anything, and you and Hansol and Wonwoo are so perfect and just so fucking perfect and fucking human and yet all you do is complain!_ Jisoo scoffed silently. _You have no fucking idea what I would give to be you! You have no fucking idea at all what I would give to be normal, and happy..._ Jisoo sank down onto the stair's steps, his eyes getting wet and his heartbeat inside his chest losing control, fading in and out. _You have no idea what I would give just to be fucking human! Because this -_ Jisoo jabbed a finger at his chest. _This isn't human, this isn't normal. No wonder people just used to kill people like me; we're fucking degenerate, fucking useless poison and why do we bother to live when it's just this dumb, stupid, ridiculous fucking pretentious nightmare 24/7, all of the fucking time?!_

  
He panted heavy breaths, looking up at Seokmin. _And why the fuck won't Cristina Dontraeovsky just fucking text me?_ He said harshly, before he lost the remainder of his self-control and bitter, hot water from his eyes fell down onto the floor, his head in his hands.

  
Seokmin sat down on the floor in front of him.

  
_I know you're angry, and I know you're scared of Jeonghan fucking it up because he doesn't get what it is to have a person like you in his life, and I know you're frustrated by all the things that happen to you and don't happen to you because you can't make sound..._ As Seokmin spoke silently, Jisoo realized just how sad and how upset Seokmin was too, but the selfish bastard in him couldn't have given lesser a fuck about it. Who gives a fuck about Seokmin been upset when he was just so fucking stupid, day in, day out - like, makes a big, stupid, dumb fuss when a baby had to come home -

  
_Don't be so cruel_ , another voice that sounded like the voice of someone he had once known echoed about in Jisoo's conscience. _Look at what he's saying_

  
_But you can't yell at me like this_ , Seokmin continued. _You just need to tell me when it gets too much. You can't bottle all of this up inside, Soo. Look how sick and sad it makes you. I'm not saying that you're an arsehole, or that you need to see a psychiatrist. You're so cool, and you don't get it - just how cool you are. I'm not going to pretend that I get every part of what it is to be mute, but I understand how much it hurts you, and I understand how much Cristina hurts you because you love her a little bit, don't you?_

  
Jisoo knew he was supposed to nod or do something right then, but he didn't do anything. There's an invisibility that comes with muteness, but, somehow and simultaneously, you're put even more on display. That was what Jisoo felt like just then with Seokmin.

  
_When I was about thirteen or fourteen, I just started to look different._ He found himself saying. _I got skinnier, and I lived with that skinner until where you'd wake up and look in the mirror brushing you're teeth and you'd just look like this doll thing - this weird sort of creature. People picked up on it, teased, laughed about it. Girls fell over, and I just found it kind of embarrassing, and kind of sick, and kind of pathetic even if it was sweet in it's own way. They all saw this image, this face, and they had no idea about the "it" part of it or the "me" part of it - me. There were two girls that sort of got it just like that; one was Irish, with the orange hair and brown freckles and eyes. She had really long eye-lashes and she always said about getting a tongue and nose ring when she had her own place and her Mum thought she would be too old to be saying, "I'll kill you!". She was around for about two years, and the other one was a Lebanese girl; she always had on the eye makeup and the nude lipstick. Her skin was pretty olive coloured and she just had black hair everywhere. She was rude and loud but she was kind; it was a weird sort of mix with another guy I knew whose Dad was half african and his mother was half african to. He was pretty cool; into video games and terrified of starting conversations with girls. The Irish girl got him out of his shell but the Lebanese girl would stuff him back into it; virtually kick him in there with a spiked high heeled shoe and Versace perfume. I think that's what it was. I was in her room one day and I saw the bottles on her dressing table._ He sighed. _I don't really know what the point to saying this all is. Why...why would it have to be so hard for him if he's really atrracted to me, and I'm...I'm whatever?_

  
_Do you actually want to go out with Jeonghan tonight?_ Seokmin asked. Jisoo shrugged, then shook his head.

  
_No way. Not tonight. But if I don't go what else am I going to do?_ Jisoo said bitterly.

  
_Stay in with me and see if we can get hold of Cristina?_ Seokmin suggested.

  
_No way, that's just fucking miserable,_ Jisoo scoffed. _I don't want to this; why do you just want to stay this - no, fuck off, I'm just..._ He stood up and roughed up his hair, grabbing his car keys from the hallway and walking out of the house. Even though it was only three blocks to jeonghan and Seungcheol's place, Jisoo still took his car. He didn't know what Jeonghan had planned, but he had this feeling - enough to assume and then believe on. He'd turn up at the front door, and then Seungcheol would be kicked out like a dog while Jeonghan drew him inside and towards his bedroom door. The thought of Jeonghan planning to fuck him made Jisoo simultaneously warm and cold inside; nervous and fully flushed in his bones and across the surface of his brain. Enough of to stun him, enough to blind him. Enough to make him want to avoid it until a much later date. Despicable visions ran through his head as he drove of what Jeonghan would make - his reaction - to his body if he took his clothes off for him. Jisoo imagined all sorts of responses; he was too skinny, he was bony, he was anorexic, he was disgusting, he was pale, he was filthy, he wasn't like the imagined version of him, he looked like he was - revolting and weird. Jisoo imagined Jeonghan's lip curling in disgust and saying he was fat and he was hideous and he needed to loose weight, and what the fuck was up with him to be like this?

  
Jisoo pulled up outside Jeonghan and Seungcheol's house and he leant back in his seat, his index and middle fingers pressed to his brow. He wondered whether he should even knock on the door, or he should just drive off by himself and screech the tyres a bit on the tarmac; he felt like driving out of the city into the country to a nice lake area he knew. Sleep in the car. Not worrying about stupid fucking mundane things like food or condition or normality or whatever the fuck anyone wanted and just watch the sun come up. Swim down in the freezing cold water, maybe naked, maybe not, because then he wouldn't remember that he was mute. He would just feel like everyone else but then he knew he wouldn't; he knew as the sun came up he'd open his mouth to make sound and no sound would come up. Even now, sitting in the car outside Seungcheol and Jeonghan's, he tried to hum, trying to make something come out of him. He spoke down to his feet on the pedals, but no sound came. Jisoo didn't need anyone to tell him just how seriously afflicted he was by his muteness. Jisoo bashed the heels of his wrists against the steering wheel. Fuck it, he thought. He decided he would have sex with Jeonghan; Fuck it, he thought again. He'd do it the way he wanted, for however long he wanted, and Jeonghan could just be a bitch and comply - because that's all he was, deep down. He wasn't cool or decent or remotely anything like Wonwoo and Hansol - for instance. Jeonghan was a fucking idiot who had no understanding of anything and yet he found himself going to him because Hansol wasn't avaible, he had well and truly fucked things up with Seokmin, and soon that would spread around their little group and people would be saying, "Remember that weirdo man-whore, Jisoo Hong? Yeah, yeah, the psycho fucker who couldn't speak? Yeah, some sort of retardation - god, yeah, total retard he was. boy or girl or some trans fuck-up? Dunno if he had a penis or a vagina - fucking vegetable, he was. Put a pair of breasts on him and he'd be right, the weirdo; he'd be a girl but he'd still be a freak like he always was. Needs a fucking straight jacket he was; get raped and his throat cut, he's fucking poison. But he'd probably enjoy the rape though. Sick gravitates towards sick. It all ends up fucked and you get immortalized in a person that looks and moves and behaves like him. Funny how he can't speak then, right?"

  
_Like I'm just on display for all you fucker's to see_ , Jisoo said aloud. No sound came up, and he wanted to scream and scream and scream again, but nothing came out. A part of him thought he'd be used to it by now; he'd been mute his whole life, after all? Why was it suddenly hurting so much now? Not too long ago, it had hurt him severely, and that's when Cristina Dontraeovsky had come into the picture. But, now it seemed that she didn't want him in her picture. She had taken their picture and shredded it into a hundred million little pieces, but before she had done that she had painted him into a house she had abandoned, surrounded by creeper and violets with carnations growing in his lungs and crawling up through his throat and into his sinuses, blooms spilling from his mouth until there was a congestions, and the blooms were then pressed and slick and condensed on the surface of his brain beneath his bone skull. 

  
Knock on the door or not? He had been sitting out there in the car like a fuck-head for ages.

  
_Most as well bite the bullet_ , Jisoo thought. _Maybe the lead will taste sweet like my blood does. He paused. No, wait. It's not my blood that taste's sweet. It's Cristina Dontraeovsky's blood that taste sweet._

  
_Like drinking hot liquidfied sugar._

  
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you sitting out here!" Jisoo looked down through the passenger window as he pressed a button for it to go down seeing Jeonghan rushing down the front steps, pulling a denim jacket onto his shoulders, and Seungcheol walking out onto the front doorstep behind him, in shorts and a grey tank shirt. Seungcheol waved to Jisoo who waved back, and Jeonghan jumped breathlessly into the passenger seat. "Oh my God, how long have you been out here? I had no idea - keeping you waiting like that, Jesus fucking Christ, I'm so sorry!" Jeonghan continued to exclaim until Jisoo threaded his hand into Jeonghan's hair and kissed him firmly on the mouth, getting him to shut up and just be in the moment.

  
A new song played in his car as they drove. A song Jisoo forgot he had. "Circles" by Post Malone. 

  
"Seasons change and our love went cold..." Jeonghan sang along, grinning at Jisoo, one leg pulled up to his chest and one hand wrapped around the seat-belt with the other wrist draped over his knee. Jisoo blinked, feeling his heart skip a beat as he saw Jeonghan doing one of the most secret, personal things of his own life. Moving mouth to a sound that wasn't his but could be his just then if he wanted it to be. Jisoo realized Jeonghan was waiting for him to do the next line, but he had already missed it. Jeonghan picked it up effortlessly. "Run away, but we're running in circle. Run away, run away -" Jeonghan snapped his fingers for Jisoo to get it.

  
"I dare you to do something, I'm waiting on you I guess so I don't take the blame." Jisoo realized that Jeonghan was going to get them to do the next line together, even though he was silent but that recognition in itself didn't hit him consciously in that moment.

  
"Run away but we're running circle. Run away, run away, run away."

  
Jeonghan grinned and laughed as the song continued on, and Jisoo felt himself grinning and laughing too, the anxiety and depression lifting from his chest and his head and his hands, but a vicious little bit of envious bittnerness stayed wrapped around his heart as it pumped blood through his veins, like a snake crushing it's prey, swallowing it whole.   
After Post Malone finished, another song he forgot he had was "Ivy" by Frank Ocean began to play. Jisoo knew for a fact that "Ivy" had been an olive branch from Cristina Dontraeovsky. They had got into a fight. She had called him a "mother-fucking bitch" and he had thrown a tin of paint at her. She had come around to he and Seokmin's house and had slipped a vinyl record under the front door, and had snuck into the mostly paved back garden and had left a 70's era record player for the vinyl. Once he and Seokmin had figured out how to use the record player and had listened to the single record, Jisoo had downloaded it on his phone and had burned it onto a disc and then bluetooth. When they got to a set of traffic lights Jisoo stopped "Ivy" playing and put on another song. "Let's Hurt Tonight" by One Republic, except this song was a slowed-down edition. It played out as they were suddenly caught in a traffic jam. 

  
_Oh, shit_ , Jisoo said. Jeonghan saw his lips move and grinned.

  
"You wouldn't want to need the toilet." He joked. Jisoo smiled a little bit. As they were just stuck there in the traffic, Jisoo pulled out his phone.

  
_Once I was stuck in a traffic jam with Wonwoo, and there was a Mercedes behind us, driven by this guy with another guy in the passenger seat. Twenty minutes we didn't move, then I look up in the review mirror and guess what was happening?_ Jisoo typed.

  
"Oh, God, I hate to think..." Jeonghan began to laugh.

  
_The other guy in the passenger seat was giving the driver a blowjob to fill in the time_

  
Jeonghan saw the typed text and burst out laughing. "How do you know that?"

  
_Because we were in a big truck that belongs to Wonwoo's Dad - who deals vintage cars and aircraft - and not only could he see down through the windscreen of the Mercedez, the sun roof was also open_ , Jisoo explained.

  
Jeonghan laughed even harder.

  
_It must be the only "live gay porn at dead traffic lights" ever played out in the world,_ Jisoo added, laughing as well.

  
"Jesus Christ!" Jeonghan exclaimed. "Do you have any more funny stories like that?"

  
_How about a bank robbery with a Russian painter?_ Jisoo inquired.

  
"You're kidding!" Jeonghan's mouth fell open.

  
_Just let me tell you the story,_ Jisoo typed. _It wasn't an actual bank like, you know - full of money and gold bullion and home deposit schemes with pigs in suits -_

  
Jeonghan snorted out a laugh in a way that was nearly violent.

  
_Come on, bankers are dicks. There's more decency in a fish's arsehole than there is in the banking industry -_ Jisoo paused for how hard Jeonghan was laughing. Jisoo hit him on the shoulder to get his attention and asked him, _Are you alright?_

  
Jeonghan was able to lip-read that, thankfully. Jeonghan nodded weakly, still beaming widely. "You're so funny in a really rude way." He told Jisoo, leaning his head against his fist with one knee still drawn up to his chest. "It's really cool."

  
Jisoo got on with telling Jeonghan the story.

  
_This bank had been bought by a family and turned into a really huge house. They did something one day to offend her. That house/art gallery I showed you? The girl I'm talking is Cristina; the same girl who created all of those paintings. I think they had a teenage son who used to walk past her house - the gallery one - and shout things out to cause a fight. Call her a "Commie Bitch" and things like that because she's Russian. So, one day she gets into a really bad mood and she has this plan about sneaking over the back fence and getting into the house and pinching some antique vases and lamps that she said are worth a lot of money, but she'll pick the really expensive ones to steal, and cause world war three basically_

  
"And you agreed to help, right?" Jeonghan checked. Jisoo nodded. Jeonghan laughed.

  
_Yeah, I did. Honestly, it went absolutely perfectly. Except for one major flaw. We went in on Sunday morning when all the family was out at Church; they had no security gameras or major security at all. There was just a fence to hop over without it been too obvious. Anyway, the major flaw. The teenage son was still at home masturbating on his bed fully naked with his headphones on an his eyes closed._

  
Jeonghan nearly gave himself an internal injury, while Jisoo was completely serious.

  
_Wait, sorry, I'll explain that. What happened, we got upstairs and Cristina kept checking the rooms; she stole heaps of stuff. Jewelry, omega watches, little miniature paintings that she said were valuable. She was really sticking it up to them. And then she opened a bedroom door, and here's the oldest son who had been picking fights with her. And he has no idea. Eyes closed shut, wanking off, musing blaring - no kidding, it was Taylor Swift he was listening to, isn't that gross?_

  
Jeonghan grinned widely, pushing his hair back from his face with a deep sigh, trying to calm down.

  
_And, very, very quietly, we snuck back out again. No idea about anything - the guy I mean. No idea at all._

  
"What happened afterwards with the stuff she stole?" Jeonghan asked, wide-eyed.

  
_Sold it in Moscow through her Grandfather_

  
Jeonghan swore loudly.

  
_And she sent them a "FUCK YOU" note in the post as well_

  
"How much money?" Jeonghan asked. Jisoo shrugged.

  
_She said that people are crazy to have antiques that belonged to the last Russian Tzar. Cristina knows a Welsh family in New Zealand who have a kerosene lamp that belonged to the Tzar's family; it's worth £125,000. But most of the stuff she stole were little personal things. We couldn't fit a lamp into the bag with damaging it_

  
Jisoo refrained from mentioning that Cristina had managed three. Either way, he was happier not knowing and not saying. 

  
"You're a criminal." Jeonghan told Jisoo.

  
_Does that mean I don't get any more kisses?_ Jisoo asked. Jeonghan grinned brightly.

  
"Yeah, pretty much." Jeonghan said precisely just before he leant over and pressed his mouth against Jisoo's. "Where were we supposed to be going again?"

  
_No idea, I just wanted to drive_ , Jisoo shrugged.

  
"You like driving, right?" Jeonghan asked.

  
_I love it. I prefer country roads though. No pedestrians or rules to worry about. I mean rules like speed and parking and - that doesn't sound good. I mean.._.Jisoo chuckled, hesitating. _Just open road. Freedom just to be able to move along. I like that - I like the peace, the serenity_

  
"You're a very serene person." Jeonghan said to Jisoo.

  
_Fuck, you should have seen me earlier_ , Jisoo thought. Nevertheless, he accepted the comment, kissing Jeonghan again.

  
"Can you feel the warmth?" Jeonghan asked him, his eyes looking dazed.

  
_I'll put the air-con on, sorry, hang on a sec_ , Jisoo replied. Jeonghan giggled.

  
"No, the temperature's fine. I'm just talking about you..." Jeonghan held Jisoo's chin in-between his fingers, bringing Jisoo's eyes and lips back towards him.

  
_We should probably be in the back seat for this_ , Jisoo said against Jeonghan's mouth. _Or the boot; pop the lid and fold the back seats down, more room for you to get your cock in my arse_

  
"Babe, babe, I don't know what you're saying." Jeonghan pulled back a little bit, one thumb stroking Jisoo's left cheekbone as the hand cradled his face. "I'm not this good at the lip-reading thing yet."

  
Feeling incredibly bold and suave, Jisoo typed up what he had said. The moment Jeonghan glanced at him afterwards, Jisoo bore witness to what Jeonghan's eyes looked like as they dilated.

  
"Oh, we've got to get out of this traffic." Jeonghan said, wanting to stick his tongue ten inches down Jisoo's throat.

\-------------------

When they got back to Jisoo's place, Seokmin wasn't home; as they went up to his bedroom, and looked in to see if Seokmin was asleep in his bed, but he wasn't. Jisoo knew that reason why Seokmin wasn't home was because he was angry, but he passed it over and focused in close on Jeonghan isntead with all he could. _What do you like?_ Jisoo asked him, and, miraculously, Jeonghan got it.

  
"Whatever you want; whatever you want me to do." Jeonghan replied, pulling Jisoo's bedroom door shut behind him and giving an "ah" sound as Jisoo shoved him over onto the bed and moved over the top of him.

  
"Fuck, you're hot for it!" Jeonghan gasped, his mouth coming up into a stunned smile as Jisoo straddled his lap and yanked him up by the front of his shirt to get the fabric off Jeonghan's skin.

  
_Yeah_. Jisoo kissed Jeonghan again, pushing him down onto the bed and feeling the skin of his chest and neck and the back of his neck. Jisoo threaded his fingers in and out of Jeonghan's hair, feeling the softness of it and inhaling the scent of the soap that he used to wash it.


	2. Cristina Dontraeovsky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cristina Dontraeovsky is formally introduced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cristina Dontraeovsky, and the manner of her always been referred to as her given-and-surname situation. In it's own way, it's a nickname, as well as her other names been - to date - "Tits", "Bitch", and "Dante". Throughout the work, she is always called by both of her names as well as given names like the three ones and more above. There is a writer, Mark Kongstad, who wrote a novel "Am I Cold?"  
> In the book, his best friend and mate's girlfriend were Sorgen T-Shirt and Camilla White-Wine - Sorgen T-Shirt was a drug addict since 1985, and Camilla White-Wine has been on the piss for about just as long. That's sort of where the idea came from for Cristina Dontraeovsky's name. Also, as far as her appearance, this been a work based on real people, it saves the pure identity theft of publishing some original, and with the characters, you have a face to the name. Jisoo looks like Jisoo, Wonwoo looks like Wonwoo, etc. If you can't quite find an image for Cristina Dontraeovsky in your mind's eye, looking up Solange Smith, pariesenne extroadinaire. I've got a little bit of a crush on her at the moment; there's a very timeless quality about her that I wanted to give some of that to Cristina Dontraeovsky to cut through the harshness of her Russian-ness.

Jisoo didn't get it, but all he felt was inexplicable shame unless he had music playing in his ears. Which was how he had spent the last five hours to a point. Cristina Dontraeovsky sung music, unconventional and beautiful and slowed-down synth discography; it was beautiful, all in different languages. English, Russian, Danish, French, Korean, Japanese, Welsh.

  
_In my head I do everything right_

  
_In my head I do everything right_

  
The backs of Jisoo's fingers pressed against his mouth and cheekbones and his chest and ribs imploded from the discography of the fade-out period at the end of the song that went for about a minute and forty seconds. He missed her; he wanted her to come back into his life. She was proud and transcending and illuminated with a thick Russian accent and this radiating wholesomeness; she was the only girl in his life, basically. And he missed having her and her position as that. Sometimes she used to stay over and sing that fade-out period from her song, "Epiphany", lying next to him in bed at half midnight, trying to get the both of them to sleep. Most people in Seoul looked at her strangely and admirably because she was beautiful and thin and because she was foreign.

  
 _You're beautiful, and kind; don't let them be arseholes to you,_ Jisoo had said to her. He had learnt the phraze specifically in Russian, to be able to say it to her in her own language.

  
 _Love, I don't know what you're on about,_ she had frowned, trying to lip-read what she thought was Korean.

  
He missed the smell of her perfume, and he knew the rest of the world for shit on him for craving Cristina Dontraeovsky when he was supposed to have a "Boyfriend" set-up with Jeonghan.

  
Jisoo wondered if he thought about her hard enough and long enough, she'd come rushing back about. He looked at his clock. Seventeen minutes past midnight. He sighed, and when he closed his eyes, he saw Seokmin and Wonwoo in the nude and he saw Cristina Dontraeovsky dancing and sewing and painting and smoking.

  
_In my head I do everything right_

\---------------------

Jisoo didn't open his eyes as his bedroom door clicked open. He felt the bed dip and a weight settle beside him, and he got together with it a bit more, but still didn't open his eyes. 

  
_"Dobroye utro, dorogaya."_ A voice said down to him, before he felt two kisses on his shoulder, and inch apart. _"Chto ty delal bex menya v posledneye vremya?"_

  
Bitch! Jisoo said before opening his eyes and turning over to see Cristina Dontraeovsky sitting like a genie on his bed in a 1930's style red cotton dress with white spots and gathered sleeves. Her black hair fell thick and loose around her, the tips of it tickling his nose and lips.

  
 _"Dorogaya, ya lyublyutebya."_ She crooned down to him. Jisoo looked up at her, and the way her mouth and eyes and eyebrows moved as she spoke. _"Oh, Jisoo, ty b'yesh'sya v moyey golove kak baraban."_ She tilted her head to the side. _You won't kiss me, then?_ She said to him, speaking silently in Korean.

  
Jisoo gazed up at her. She traced her fingertips down over his nose and his lips. _"Dorogaya, ya lyublyutebya."_ She murmured.

  
"CRISTINA DONTRAEOVSKY!" Seokmin audibly howled. "WHERE ARE YOU HIDING? STOP HIDING AND COME OUT! YOU'D BETTER NOT BE ANYWHERE NEAR JISOO OTHERWISE I'LL KILL YOU!"

  
 _He doesn't like you at the minute,_ Jisoo told her. he shifted back down into the bed and over, lifting the covers for her to climb under. Cristina Dontraeovsky slipped in, cuddling up against his body.

_"Dorogaya, ya lyublyutebya."_ She said, her nose and mouth pressing into his cheek. Jisoo reflected that he needed to change his bed linen; it smelled too much like his body.

  
 _I have missed you a lot,_ Jisoo said. _You're breaking my heart_

  
 _A little birdy told me that you had a boyfriend,_ her nose twitched.

  
 _Did this little birdy happen to have a German name?_ Jisoo raised an eyebrow sarcastically as a door crashed downstairs by Seokmin's hands. _Like Vernon for instance?_

  
She rolled her eyes. _Why do we call him Vernon and Hansol?_

  
 _Because they are his names. He's Eurasian,_ Jisoo replied.

  
 _Hansol._ Cristina Dontraeovsky wrinkled her nose. _He got called that because it's like Hansel, Ansel - that German name. Korean Hansol is like German Hansel, Ansel - you know that dumb little fatty that got killed with his sister by a witch? Ansel and Gretel_

  
Jisoo grinned. _You're mean_

  
 _I'm Russian, dorogaya,_ she said. Her tongue pressed up against Jisoo's lips, their noses bumping together.

  
 _Hm, yes you are_ , Jisoo replied, kissing her, his hand tucked against hsi pillow underneath her jaw as she shifted in so close together that their bodies fitted together perfectly; their legs and pelvises fitted together, her breasts pressed up against his chest. 

  
"CRISTINA DONTRAEOVSKY!" Seokmin roared, really doing his nut. Jisoo looked pointedly at her.

  
 _You really think I'm worried? The boy's a total cupcake,_ Cristina Dontraeovsky remarked.

  
Jisoo laughed. _I want to go back to sleep,_ he said.

  
 _Can't if Seokmin keeps yelling._ Cristina Dontraeovsky's hand slipped beneath his neck and her fingertips mvoed in small circular motions and patterns on the back of his neck, making him even more tired.

  
 _You won't be able to stay again, like the other times._ Jisoo explained to her.

  
 _No worries, I'll sleep in your car,_ she replied.

  
Jisoo's eyes searched her face. _I love you_

  
 _Good._ Cristina Dontraeovsky slotted her mouth against Jisoo's again as Seokmin got Hansol on the phone and had a yell at him for interfering.

\------------------

They all ended up having a party later that evening; Cristina Dontraeovsky brought all of the plonk.

  
"Does she always get called by her first and last name?" Jeonghan and Seungcheol asked Wonwoo, chilling at the table in the dining room.

  
"Sometimes we call her "Tits", "Dante", and "Bitch"." Wonwoo replied.

  
"Tits?" Seungcheol echoed.

  
"Tits is a English slang term for a girl's chest, but all over the world are the jokes about Russian women all being called "Titty-ana" rather than "Tatyana" because all Russian women are pole dancers, apparently." Wonwoo rolled his eyes. "Tits" came about because Hansol called her "Tina" and Tits said that "Tina" sounded like she had a STD."

  
Jeonghan choked on his drink.

  
"Why do you call her "Bitch", then?" Seungcheol remarked accusingly.

  
"Yeah, and what's with the "Dante" reference?" Jeonghan pitched in.

  
Wonwoo sighed, slumping back into his chair. "We call her "Bitch", because sometimes she is, and because her last name is Dontraeosvky - we all had trouble pronouncing it at first, apart from Hansol but he's half English, German, whatever, anyway. So he's fine with it but us others weren't; so we just called her "Dante"." Wonwoo shrugged. "That, and the seven circles or hell and the devil sort of fits her aesthetic." Wonwoo nudged his head over to where Cristina Dontraeovsky was talking to Jisoo in a 1930's style black velvet dress, red-lipstick and black hair swept up into a French knot.

  
Jeonghan's gaze narrowed in on Jisoo as the Russian woman's index finger slid along his jawline, her gaze heavy and deep, gazing boldly into Jisoo's eyes. Her lips moved silently as she spoke.

  
 _Which one is he? Jeonghan?_ She asked Jisoo.

  
 _Guess,_ he replied.

  
 _Don't be cruel,_ she nearly pouted, but her Russian coolness came to her and she sipped from a glass of red wine in her hand.

  
 _You're cruel to me,_ Jisoo remarked lightly.

  
 _What do you expect from a -_ Cristina Dontraeovsky began matter-of-factly.

  
 _Russian woman?_ Jisoo rolled his eyes. he hadn't bothered to grab a glass or even a coffee mug for the soju; he was just drinking it straight from the bottle. _Why don't you find a nice Russian man to settle down with?_

  
 _All Russian men are ugly._ Her dark red upper lip curled. _Most of them_

  
 _What about that one you dated? James?_ He questioned.

  
 _James was English and he didn't like me when I slapped his friend for calling me a "Stalin babe",_ she replied.

  
Jisoo laughed. _Oh, come on, that's funny,_ he implored when she scowled.

  
 _Is not, baby._ Cristina Dontraeovsky put her glass of wine down by the dish-rack on the drying board by the sink, and pressed Jisoo up against the bench, her hands holding the wooden edge either side of Jisoo's thin hips.

  
 _When's your next pay-check?_ Jisoo swigged some of the soju, the end of the thick glass bottle clunking against the side of her head as he brought it up to his mouth. _You'd need a mortgage for all of this_

  
 _Will you just shut up and kiss me?_ She snapped.

  
 _In front of Jeonghan?_ Jisoo inquired.

  
 _Especially in front of Jeonghan,_ She commented.

  
 _You're such an art deco artist_ , Jisoo giggled.

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky gazed at him.

  
 _All fine tailoring and dresses with heels, cigarettes, champagne, pearls, old-fashion hair do-ups, old world perfume, but you've still got that bohemian oomph without been anywhere near a hippy. it must be the russian in you that gives you that sort of class; weird style._ Jisoo elaborated. _You're so abnormal_

  
Her gaze slid from his lips to his eyes. _We have fun with ourselves, don't we?_ She asked delicately.

  
Jisoo kissed her with a sudden passion that came out of nowhere from inside his chest and along his hands, holding her face in-between them. Within a few more seconds, Jeonghan was storming out of the house, got lost in one of the several hallways, shouted, then Hansol directed him out again. All the while, Seungcheol dived for his coat and ran a commentary under his breath.

  
"You got a little poison!" Cristina Dontraeovsky sang out with full powerhouse in English, drawing out "poison", swinging back on her heels with Jisoo's bottle of soju in one hand and her head tipped back like a wolf howling to the moon.

\----------------------------

Jisoo and Cristina Dontraeovsky held onto each other - a arm around each other's shoulders - as they staggered along to the kitchen. They had crashed together on the couch in the sitting room at about half one, whiel Seokmin and Wonwoo and Hansol carried on like idiots out in the back garden.

  
 _You go this way and I'll go that,_ Cristina Dontraeovsky muttered as she put to much force on her side and stumbled into a wall, and Jisoo pressed up limply into her side.

  
 _Wait, let me get you down..._ Jisoo replied, getting two chairs pulled out.

  
They both groaned as they slumped down at the dining room table that barely ever got used. Everyone always crashed down to eat in the sitting room while the news played and anything else went on.

  
 _You really made a disgrace of yourself last night,_ Jisoo informed her.

  
 _Yeah, like you didn't,_ She retorted. The night before they had crashed, she had left a couple of bottles of penicillin and a strange Russian drink - more like concoction - out in a jug. She tipped out five tablets - more than double the advised dosage - into her palm, and swallowed the tablets with the drink. To Jisoo, it smelt strangely sweet, and fruitful, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

  
 _What? Jisoo didn't get it._ Cristina Dontraeovsky squinted as she frowned at him, a headache killing her temples.

  
 _You're boyfriend,_ she snapped her fingers, unable to remember Jeonghan's name. _You should have gone after him_

  
Jisoo groaned again. _He can't lip-read, can't do sign language, and it's pathetic to type all of the time._ He held his head in his hands. Cristina Dontraeovsky tipped out seven penicillin tablets into her hand and put them on the table in front of Jisoo. This isn't going to work, he eventually spoke again. He put the tablets into his mouth and swallowed them down. The drink tasted like a flat Lemon, Lime and Bitters. Jisoo thought it might actually be that.

  
 _Me being here?_ She questioned.

  
 _No, you're fine._ He shook his head. _I mean me and Jeonghan_

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky yawned hugely, before settling her head on her folded arms on the table. _How do you mean?_

  
 _Well, you see this; I'd rather be around with you then him - that's just obvious,_ Jisoo answered, staring numbly at the wall ahead of him, and for some reason his hands were up in front of him. He didn't know why, so he just slumped back into his chair, and then played with Cristina Dontraeovsky's hair. _I'll break up with him_

  
 _Alright, love, if you want,_ she mumbled, getting out of the chair and lying down on her side on the floor. Jisoo got down there and joined her.

  
_Yeah, that's what I want_

  
_Ok,_ she nodded feebly.

  
 _That's what I'm doing,_ Jisoo tried to convince himself.

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky kissed his neck. _You want tea?_

  
 _No way._ Jisoo found himself nearly going back to sleep on the floor.

  
 _Not green tea or Asian shit,_ Cristina Dontraeovsky winced, looking bloody buggered. _Proper tea. Black tea with sugar and a soggy biscuit at the bottom_

  
Jisoo laughed, despite of himself. _Yeah, that sounds wonderful_

  
 _Bitch always happens._ She picked herself up onto her hands and knees, then used the table as a support to get herself to her feet. _You dunk the fucking thing and then, plop! It's a organic oatmeal titanic_

  
Jisoo gazed over at her and thought how beautiful she looked with the remants of her lipstick now faded to a very light pink on her mouth, her eyes looked like a panda bears, and her hair was slightly tussled and flowed everywhere like a black river. She was in a floor-length white transparent - only in the sunlight that Jisoo had caught side of her - silk nightie with spaghetti straps and a floor-length kimono made of thick material with gold birds embroidered on it.

  
 _So he's just been a fling, then? Jeonghan?_ Cristina Dontraeovsky said. Jisoo didn't reply. She checked over her shoulder to see if his mouth moved, but he kept it firmly shut. A few minutes later, she got back down onto the floor with two mugs and a packet of biscuits with Russian brand-logo printed across the plastic wrapper. She teared it off with her teeth, and scoffed four by the time Jisoo finished the second one he picked.

  
 _Mm, I'm goanna stay here forever,_ Cristina Dontraeovsky murmured, lying on her mug with a mug held in-between two hands on her rib-cage just before the heavy curve of her breasts. _If I go to sleep now I'll have to keep waking myself up to piss, then, don't I? Fuck it._

  
Jisoo grinned towards the ceiling. _You're insane_

  
 _Art Deco bitch, right?_ She echoed his comments from last night. _Hey, where are your boys?_

  
Jisoo shrugged. _Don't know. Don't care._

\------------------

A heartbroken Yoon Jeonghan was a matter in itself. But a eerily quiet Yoon Jeonghan was terrifying.

  
Seungcheol didn't know precisely why it was, but he spent a week tredding on eggshells in this unfamiliar territory. he tried to be as normal as he could be because it seemed been supportive and a should to cry and yell on - well, that wasn't it. It was a concept not even required in Jeonghan's quietness. The only thing they had in common was breathing. 

  
There Seungcheol is. Breathing.

  
There Jeonghan is. Breathing.

  
That's it.

  
Jeonghan was curled up asleep at one end of the couch, and Seungcheol sat at the other, flicking through the TV channels with his phone balanced on his knee. Out of curiosity he had looked to see if Jisoo had a Instagram account, which he did, but it was privately set. He then checked if Cristina Dontraeovsky had an account, which she did....with 500 post, 30.4K followers, and she followed only five people, all of them Russian except Jisoo. Any other time, Seungcheol would have woken up Jeonghan to show him, but he didn't. All through Cristina Dontraeovsky's Instagram were photos of Jisoo and her. There was one image that stuck out. She and Jisoo had obviously been mucking about; Cristina Dontraeovsky was in a tight black pencil dress while Jisoo was in a black shirt and jeans. They both wore white lace bras over the top and were slow-dancing about a studio space, all exposed brick and polished timber floorboards with exposed, hanging light-bulbs. There was a photo there with Hansol; it was a film and she was teaching him Slavic kossack dancing - whilst balancing a pint of beer on his head in exceptionally tight silver trousers. Seungcheol found himself grinning for really no reason at all.

  
Suddenly, Jeonghan chuckled in his sleep. Seungcheol twisted around sharply, and saw the younger man was definitely still asleep. It was first sign of remote happiness that Seungcheol had heard from him in days. Seungcheol turned off his phone, and enjoyed a breeze that blew in through the open frosted windows, through the gaps that Jeonghan used to perve on Jisoo through.

  
Seungcheol knew Jeonghan was hurting, but he wished he'd come back around. He wished Jeonghan would deliver stinging barbs about Jisoo, pick at his muteness, make it the scape-goat of him and the memory of him. The silence was awful, because it was too much like Jisoo than anything more here on Earth. If Jeonghan talked and made sound, there wouldn't be any resemblance; all of that would be banished out, and gotten rid off. The memory of the mute young man would be exorcised, and they could get back to their peaceful normality. Their simplicity. That's all they needed. All Seungcheol wanted. He wanted Jeonghan to want it too.

\--------------------

_Hello, beautiful,_ Jisoo smiled down at Jangmi who woke up as he picked her up from her crib in her nursery. She beamed widely and happily at the sight of him, and immediately face-palmed him with a tiny, pudgy hand, patting his nose and chattering in silent baby-language. _What have you been up to?_

  
Jangmi's Father was at his work as a administrator for the railways, and her Mother was back working as the manager of one of the huge hotels of the city. She had had a extended maternity leave due to Jangmi's disability.

  
 _We're going for a trip in the car; bit different from Mum and Dad's, right, eh?_ Jisoo set her on his hip and put her back in the cot, but un-locked the sides of the cot and slid them down beneath the base. She lay there, playing with her feet while he got out a dress for her from the little cupboard with her clothes in it. It was blue cotton with no sleeves and white flowers with green leaves embroidered across the chest. He changed her from her romper suit into the dress, and slipped her into one of the tiny cardigans her paternal grandmother had knitted her, a beautiful soft white one. 

  
Jangmi gazed out of the back window of the car as he drove through the city as they went down to the market; he got stopped five times and told how cute Jangmi was and how young he was to be her Dad and what a nice couple they made by people in the market. He did the favour of getting supplies for the pantry of the house so Mother and Father didn't have to worry about it when they came home. He paid out of his wallet, first-off, and then he got reimbursed when they came back home. They had both gotten better at reading and understanding Jangmi over the course of a season, but they still needed a tremendous amount of help and someone who could look after a mute baby.

  
Of the parents, Father was always the first to come home, between seven and nine; Mother got home much later, anywhere from half-ten to Midnight. Often-time, Jisoo would have to put Jangmi down to sleep before either of them or one of them got home, but both of the parents understood and never got the shits with him. 

  
On the weekends, Mother was taking Jangmi to the swimming pool to swim around and mix with other little ones, and Father took her to story-time at the Library. Father had admitted sheepishly to Jisoo one night when he came home that it was ridiculous of he and his wife to think that everything like that was impossible, and how it was dumb of them to think that just because Jangmi couldn't make sound...it was unbelieveably stupid to not give sound to her.

  
 _Babies are tiny, unjudging things,_ Jisoo said to Cristina Dontraeovsky later that night when he got home. He only went home when Mother was back from her job at the hotel, as well, and he was free to be on-call during the night in case something went wrong. _They're lovely. Huge mess, but they're lovely. Jangmi's trying to mouth actual words, but her parents don't realize. I can't say anything; I don't think I can at all. Mute babies don't have first words, and I don't want them to think...you know, right?_ She was curled up in his bed beside him, and Jisoo was over-joyed at not having to sleep alone. He could now go all night inhaling the smell of the soap she used to wash her hair and her perfume and the washing powder scent of her nighties and slips she wore to bed. That night, she had not clothes on at all when Jisoo climbed in beside her, and he realized that all his friendships and otherwise relationships...he had all made them quite strange and vacant of boundaries. Definitely so the latter with Wonwoo, Seokmin and Hansol, and all of they're friends that Jisoo had got through. But Jisoo didn't think about it with Cristina Dontraeovsky; she was a immortalized Russian Art Deco artist. It was what she did, and, if he was really honest, it was a thrill to him, the warmth of body and how as a woman, she had a woman's body, and not a man's. With a headphone in each ear, they were listening to "Imagine" by John Lennon and The Plastic Ono Band With The Flux Fiddlers. Jisoo secretly liked the bit at the end of the film-clip where Yoko and John gazed at each other for a few minutes at the piano he had been playing, completely in sync like in his life as he spoke as a mute and he was read by Cristina Dontraeovsky, Seokmin, and Hansol, and, then, all of a sudden he pulled a silly face and then Yoko giggled and they kissed. It was really something mundane and sweet, but to Jisoo it was special. He coudn't quite describe why, but that's most just as it was. It was something warm.

  
_What are you going to do?_

  
_What do you mean?_

  
_Now that Jeonghan is gone? Are you going to find someone else?_

  
_It's too hard. And whose really going to want me? Like...see me, find out it all, and then be able to make it work? With me, there can't be casual or...I don't know. It just doesn't work_

  
Jisoo petted Cristina Dontraeovsky's hair as she wrapped her arms around him. Instead of speaking silently, she traced her response onto his stomach.

  
_Y-O-U-A-R-E-M-Y-W-O-R-L-D_

  
He traced his response back on her shoulder. _T-H-E-N-W-H-Y-D-O-Y-O-U-I-G-N-O-R-E-M-E-A-N-D-T-H-E-N-S-H-U-T-M-E-O-F-F-F-O-R-A-G-E-S-O-N-E-N-D_

  
_H-O-N-E-Y-I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U_

  
Jisoo pushed away from her and barely didn't slam the door, going downstairs. He needed space from her.

\------------------------

Jisoo woke up the next morning to Seokmin tapping his shoulder. _Dante isn't here anymore,_ he said, using Cristina Dontraeovsky's nickname. _She's left_

  
 _I hate her_ , Jisoo replied cleanly. He had fallen asleep on the couch in the sitting room, and had barely slept; the air had been stifling and lacking of oxygen, and then about three 'o' clock it had been freezing cold, so Jisoo had climbed bakc upstairs as quietly as he could and climbed in with Seokmin who didn't really notice how his bed moved under the weight of Jisoo's body. Jisoo tried not to think about how Cristina Dontraeovsky's body - how warm it was, and the weight of her breasts pressed up against his chest, her nudity on his clothes. 

  
_When she wasn't around do you think she might have been back in Moscow?_ Seokmin asked, putting an arm behind his head, still laying back on the pillows. Jisoo turned onto his side, one hand beneath the pillow and the other had been draped over Seokmin's body.

  
 _What?_ Jisoo frowned. _Since when did Moscow come into it?_

  
 _It's just something I thought of. It's that a few pictures on her Instagram were back in Russia; they could have been old ones she was making out to be new ones, but maybe all those weeks she was back seeing her family,_ Seokmin gave Jisoo his thesis.

  
What family? Jisoo retorted. _All of them are dead except her Grandfather_

  
 _What did she say?_ Seokmin asked.

  
 _What?_ Jisoo scowled.

  
 _You're been an arsehole,_ Seokmin told him.

  
 _She's an arsehole,_ Jisoo scoffed, feeling bitter and dark and bad-tempered over why the hell wasn't Seokmin calming his down. Usually this would have him completely docile; been only an inch or two away from Seokmin's body in his bed beneath his covers in the Midsummer, arms and legs everywhere and Seokmin's breath didn't smell as ghastly in the morning as Hansol's did. 

  
_Why won't you tell me just what happened?_ Seokmin implored, taking his arm around from beneath his head and slipping it beneath Jisoo's head so Jisoo could use it like a pillow; he tipped onto his side as well, and Jisoo averted his eyes for how close Seokmin was and the one thing they were talking about was Cristina Donetraeovsky. It felt like a sin, some sort of disgrace, to have her brought up in-between the centre of them when they were so close. 

  
_For God's sake..._ Jisoo mumbled.

  
 _Don't start. I just want to know. How simple is that?_ Seokmin said.

  
 _You're not my Mother,_ Jisoo scowled again. Seokmin refused to take any of his shit.

  
 _When was the last time you saw her anyway?_ Seokmin remarked.

  
 _Bit hard when she's 9000 miles away,_ Jisoo responded sarcastically. _Why did he have to bring up Mum?_ he thought to himself.

  
 _Texted her, then,_ Seokmin reasoned.

  
 _None of your business_ , Jisoo shifted away from Seokmin, and the younger man just rolled his eyes unseen by Jisoo at the other's foul-tempered behaviour/

  
Seokmin hit his shoulder, making Jisoo look back around at him. _You're been a total arsehole, Jisoo,_ Seokmin informed him.

  
 _Are you kidding me?_ Jisoo's lip curled sarcastically. He wasn't angry; Bring it on, he thought of Seokmin's presence beside him. _I've perfected the art of it_

  
 _Oh, hello Cristina Dontraeovsky, you're back early,_ Seokmin remarked equally as sarcastically. _So, is she going to keep using my house like a hotel, then?_

  
 _My house, too._ Jisoo threw off the covers and stormed out of the room. Seokmin got up and followed him out into the hallway.

  
 _Alright then, you're house too. So, is she coming back?_ Seokmin questioned. Jisoo shrugged, ducking his head. Seokmin chucked his chin.

  
 _Not a good enough answer,_ Seokmin glared at him. 

  
_Don't follow me around; amazed you haven't started crying yet, you sook,_ Jisoo responded harshly. Seokmin looked even more livid.

  
 _I'm trying to talk to you, you idiot,_ Seokmin snarled.

  
 _Fuck off, I'm getting in the shower._ Jisoo shut the bathroom door in Seokmin's face further down the hall, and pressed his back against it on the internal side. 

  
"Stop swearing at me just because of her!" Seokmin hollered, this time with sound, before buggering off and leaving a cold and empty silence for Jisoo to be immersed in. He ran the shower and stripped off his clothes, feeling like he was taking off bandages to see skin both mottled and wounded and scarred, and then skin that was completely fine; flawless and beautiful.

  
As Jisoo's body soaked beneath the stream hot water, he thought of how the people had approached him at the market; thinking Jangmi was his baby and realizing there was something "wrong" with her, and how he had to pretend to have "lost his voice" to not make out the face that he had never had a voice. It was something broken; he had that too often, and it made him feel sick inside. Getting run up to, thought normal, and, then... _I'm so sorry._

  
That was always the answer. _I'm so sorry for not realizing, love; God, sorry, I've been so silly; forgive me, I don't know what came over me_

  
 _You can't help the fact I'm mute,_ he wished he could properly say. _I look so normal, don't I?_

  
 _Pretty like a fucking girl,_ echoed around dangerously in the back of his head, mocking him, taking the piss out of something already strangled and wretched. 

  
_Imagine if Jangmi was actually my baby,_ Jisoo thought to himself as he got dried. _How funny would that be?_

\-----------------------

Just fucking call me up, came in the form of a text message on Jisoo's phone from Cristina Dontraeovsky. He placed Jangmi down on the floor of the sitting room to have a crawl around while he quickly responded. No one he knew seemed to quite understand what caring for a mute baby was, in a consequence of hours. He left had six in the morning and was there until past Midnight sometimes. There were days when Mother and Father managed by themselves, but since Mother went back to her job at the hotel, they had hit another hurdle; Jangmi as a mute baby couldn't go into child-care due to there was no one capable to look after her, and they, plus Jisoo and the paediatrician and head of the mute/deaf pedatrics clinic had refused the idea of Jangmi having to be put in with autistic and otherwise disordered babies at a special-needs school and day-care. "There's nothing wrong with the child!" Peter Weiss had roared at the idea when Jisoo had been talking to him; Mother had been getting very worried about what to do when her maternity leave was due to end. "Sound, sound, sound! That's all there is! Christ, the poor little girl's not retarded! And she doesn't have a failing body on her! She's a perfect, beautiful little girl! Did some nurse tell Jangmi's Mother this? Dumb bitches! All nurses should be strung up and shot - they have no idea how much grievance they inflict upon poor women like her!". Jisoo told Peter about taking care of Jangmi, and the German man had exploded again. "Well, of course, Jisoo! That's the only way - it's the obvious way! Why they have bothered with all this other crap when you are the blinding obious answer! Christ in Heaven - what is wrong with people for them to be so thick?! The baby adores you - she can't possible be put with strangers who would mistreat her!" 

  
As for Cristina Dontraeovsky back in the present, Jisoo decided he was going to refer to the Russian woman as a "rampant cow" for the rest of the day.

  
 _You can stop trying to pull me in,_ he responded. On her instagram had appeared a picture of her sitting at a outdoor table at a café in Doc Martens, a green and white 1930's dress but with the skirts hem above her mid-thighs with black-lens Lennon glasses and a black military cap with the caption " _Dorogay_ can get his arse here".   
I've just got one more thing to say, the rampant cow sent back. She rarely ever used "text speech" or emojis in her texts.

  
 _You're only pissed off because I had a go at you about been a cow like you always are,_ Jisoo told her. He looked down at Jangmi crawled back over to the couch and lifted her arms up into the air. He picked her up from the floor and settled her in his lap; she was content today, which Jisoo thought was amazing. She had been sick last night; sore tummy and a very cranky personality otherwise. He felt sorry for the parents; sort of typical that everything would go tits-up for them and then when he called around everything would be blissful and happy. Another part of his job was helping with Jangmi when she was so sick so they could get a good night's sleep; he was paid basically to be vomited on and kept up all night, walking laps of the house and patting her back while she did her nut and wiped a teary and snotty face on his t-shirt. Jisoo wished they had called him, but either way, he was proud of them with being able to manage on their own.

  
 _And I'm sure that Jeonghan's not just another queer - sorry, "boy",_ rampant cow replied back nearly instantly.

  
Jisoo fancied the idea of killing her.

  
 _And I'm telling you that you're homophobic,_ Jisoo replied. Jangmi looked up at him before looking back to the phone. She gave a breathy laugh, grabbing onto one of her feet, as a new message from the rampant cow popped up on the screen. 

  
_Magic,_ Jangmi, Jisoo told her. She grinned widely; none of her teeth had started to appear yet. Jisoo couldn't wait until they did; teething was usually a horrible time for any parent and child, but he though it would be very cute to see the little white stubs like tic-tac mints appeared in her smile.

  
_You're not actually gay; you just get around_

  
_And I think that one day you're going to burn out and end up on blue tablets,_ Jisoo texted.

  
 _Yeah, and you'll hang yourself in the kitchen before you're forty._ Jisoo rolled his eyes at rampant cow's reply. _That's a nice remark,_ he thought to himself. He turned off his phone. He had better things to do. Toys, for instance. Jangmi's paternal grandmother had bought her some hand-carved wooden ones from a shop in the Jirisan mountain district where the older woman lived. He fetched a few from the toy-box beside the TV and put them out for her. He got her into his lap, a hand around her tummy for support. She had mastered sitting up well on her own...most of the time. Sometimes she was still inclined to lose all capability and tip over like a doll. Jisoo chuckled to himself at a memory of how he had once thought that Jangmi was like a sunflower - or a rose, rather, like her name meant - with a wobbly neck. She literally had had no balance or capability to hold herself up at all until very recent history. Her crawling was alright, even if she did go at 0.01 miles an hour. Jisoo thought it was very cute how she would crawl about three feet, then lie down on her tummy and have a big breath, because, oh, she had gone such a long way. Hm, yes, dear, covered half the shag-pile rug. One of the little wooden toys was a tractor. He rolled it back and forth on the ground a few times, getting her attention. She reach out for it intently, and observed it, Jisoo helping her to hold it in her tiny hands.

  
Automatically, Jangmi had her mouth on it, trying to chew it with toothless gums, brown eyes looking at him instantly as she tried to gnaw the wood. Jisoo loved babies. He particularly loved this one. "You can't get too sad if they die or when they grow up and you're not needed anymore." Peter Weiss had told him once. Jisoo understood that, and thought about it sometimes, and then sometimes he wished he hadn't at all. He quite liked Jangmi being small, thank you very much. "You can't get attached to them; they're not your children."

  
Jisoo had felt annoyed when Peter had said that; of course he realized that, did the man take him for an idiot?

  
Jisoo shook his head, clearing his thoughts, as Jangmi got bored of the toy and dropped it onto the floor. Alright, next one then, mate, her expression read as she looked up at him. 

  
_How do you like the idea of going out and getting cuddled by a cow that nevertheless smells very nice?_ He asked her.

\-------------------

Jisoo hunched his shoulders slightly. He held Jangmi in his lap and she was on perfect behaviour; the café owners had offered a high-chair, but everyone luckily had found it endearing when Jangmi just sutbbornly reached out for Jisoo to hold her when she was put in the seat. _Why wouldn't people find it nice?_ A voice in the back of his head said. _She's a tiny baby, and she's so sweet. Why would people have a problem with it?_ Jisoo ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his coffee mug. _People are looking,_ he said to the rampant cow. She squarely gave the middle finger to a group of three across the road, who promptly buggered off. They had been talking without sound for the last forty minutes, and Jisoo knew that people around them and people that walked past either clicked, were starting to figure it out, or they thought they were freaks, pure and simple.  
Don't get put off; let the Soviet Power sort the fuckers out, rampant cow replied, a muscle jumping in jaw as she said it. Jisoo knew she was vicious; when Chris Brown had been formally charged for domestic violence over Rhianna, rampant cow had sent him the story in a text message with the caption "I'd like to see the black cunt survive a go with me".

Jisoo rolled his eyes.

  
 _Don't swear in front of the baby._ He pointed out. _She lip-reads and she can't be lip-reading swear words_

  
 _Don't think she's in any danger of that, are you gorgeous?_ The rampant cow blew Jangmi a kiss across the table. _Is she still been breast-fed or is she off that?_ She asked.

  
 _No, bottled formula. And mashed sweet potato_ , Jisoo replied.

  
 _Show you a trick by Grandmother did,_ the rampant cow winked.

  
 _Don't make her sick otherwise I'll be in trouble._ Jisoo handed Jangmi over across the table. _I don't even know why I trust you_

  
 _And everyone else is looking at me and thinking that I don't look like I've ever been pregnant,_ the rampant cow blew him a kiss too.

  
Jisoo grinned. Fair enough. The rampant cow - who actually looked pretty sexy, Jisoo had to admit, despite of himself - nipped into the café and got hot milk and a few macaroons from the show-case. People stared at her and a few took photos and a few more told her what a cute couple she and her "gorgeous baby" made. This all took a few minutes, but he didn't mind, until he did. Jisoo went absolutely cold inside when he heard the rampant cow say as she pointed to him through the café door, "You think I'm gorgeous, see her Dad!"

  
 _Why the hell did you make out that we're Jangmi's parents?_ He asked her as soon as she came back. The rampant cow shrugged non-committedly and dipped a vanilla macaroon into the warm milk, before letting Jangmi have a nibble on it. The baby positively rose up to cloud nine.

  
 _Feeding babies soft biscuits; it helps them when they're getting onto solids from bottle-feeding, and it's sweet for them. like a treat because they can't have chocolate or KFC yet,_ the rampant cow explained. She pointed down to the macaroons. _Want one or shall I just go to fat?_

  
Jisoo picked up his mug of coffee. You are already fat, he told her over the rim of his mug before drinking it as she grinned widely and told him that he was a bitch.

\-----------------

It was nearly one in the morning before Jangmi's Mother came home. A storm water pipe had burst and had flooded the lobby of the hotel and out onto the street. All the electricity had to be turned off, the fire brigade and police called, guests blocked from coming into their suites and guests been locked up in their suites because the elevators weren't working and water was running all down the fire escape stairs, making it a hazard for anyone in the forty-seven storey building.

  
"Look, there's Mummy!" Father and Jisoo both said to Jangmi, one silent, one full of sound, as her face appeared on the evening news. Within an hour of the incident happening, reporters and other journalists had flocked about everywhere. The hotel - from what the news showed - was in a terrible state; the water was over two feet high and there was masses of people looking out of windows and crowded out onto the streets while hotel staff swept out the water and someone put in a generator to assist with alternatively-sourced electricity for the ground floor of the hotel. 

  
"Something had to happen, didn't it?" She remarked, surprisingly cheerfully to her husband and Jisoo as she finally pulled up outside and Father held open the front door for her to come in. She was just wearing a huge man's button up shirt, not the tailored grey skirt and the flower-patterned blouse she had left that morning wearing.

  
"I slipped and fell in the water and I had to take my clothes off in case the water was contaminated; which it might technically be since it was a storm water pipe." She explained to the two men after Jisoo had made her a cup of tea.

  
 _Want some vodka in it since you're not breastfeeding Jangmi anymore?_ He typed on his phone. _Or should we just pull out the vodka and I'll have the tea?_

  
Both parents laughed. Jangmi joined in too. She had had lots of little sleeps throughout the day, a fuck-up to her routine as it were, but then the flooding of the hotel lobby was a balls-up on Father, Mother and Jisoo's routines as well. 

  
"I'm going in tomorrow at half past nine; no way am I going in before." Mother decided. "I'm sorry you had to stay, love, I -"

  
 _I'm just being decent, it's not your fault,_ Jisoo quickly typed. She smiled tenderly and held his hand on the kitchen table for a moment before yawning and accidentally letting loose a small fart. After Jisoo and Father stopped laughing their heads off and she was blushing crimson, everyone decided to go to bed, and Jisoo said he'd be back by nine in the morning.

  
 _Whose shirt is it though?_ He thought to himself as he drove home. He had stopped getting the bus; one, he didn't want to be anywhere near Jeonghan and Seungcheol's place where they might see him, and lately it was easier to just use the car.

  
 _I'm fucking jinxed,_ Jisoo thought to himself, horrified, as he Jeonghan asleep on the couch in the sitting room as he came into the house looking for Seokmin. He found Seokmin upstairs, asleep. Jisoo shoved him over onto his back, making Seokmin yell out in fright and try and hit him.

  
 _What the fuck is he doing down there?_ Jisoo asked. He knew Seokmin had probably woken up Jeonghan, now.

  
 _Waiting for you to come home,_ Seokmin gathered himself. _Where have you been?_ Jisoo understood the underlying barb to that question; Cristina Dontraeovsky. He knew Seokmin thought she had done something to keep him out late.

  
 _You see the news?_ Jisoo quipped.

  
 _Not really,_ Seokmin squinted in the darkness, so Jisoo turned on the lamp and sat down on his lap.

  
 _There's a hotel that flooded and the woman who is the manager of it is Jangmi's Mum,_ he explained.

  
 _Fuck!_ Seokmin's mouth fell open. _Shit, actually, I think I saw that! Huge mess_

  
 _She didn't get home until just under a hour ago, and I stayed because that's what you do even though Dad was home,_ Jisoo added. _Now, my question - why the fuck is Jeonghan downstairs?_

  
 _Well, as I said - he wanted to see you and I told him you'd be home soon...and look, this is what happened,_ Seokmin shrugged. Jisoo thumbed his brow.

  
 _I'll organize it in the morning,_ Jisoo said to him.

  
 _Why make him wait all night?_ Seokmin asked.

  
 _Look, I'm tired, you're tired, he's probably really tired - let's wait until the morning,_ Jisoo replied. He got off Seokmin's lap and cuddled down beneath the covers full-clothed beside him on his right side.

  
 _Why my bed, then?_ Seokmin remarked, slipping down back to the bed again, and looking at Jisoo.

  
 _Shh,_ Jisoo said, slipping his hand beneath the hem of Seokmin's shirt and resting his palm flat on Seokmin's chest.

\--------------------

"Is she your girlfriend then?" Jeonghan asked Jisoo of Cristina Dontraeovsky; today, she was been referred to as "Tits".

  
Jisoo waited for Seokmin to reply, but instead the man looked at him. _Is Tits your girlfriend then?_ he asked. Jisoo rolled his eyes as hard as he could.

  
 _That's that question answered,_ Hansol chuckled, holding Jangmi and holding a cup of coffee, looking around the wall that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

Compared with the things that he had to do, half an hour after both parents left, he brought Jangmi back to he and Seokmin's house, and she was now been occupied but Seungcheol, Hansol and Wonwoo while Seokmin worked as a translator between he and Jeonghan. The whole gang had turned up, effectively.

  
 _Don't get her burnt,_ Jisoo warned Hansol. Jangmi was already holding onto the chain of a necklace Hansol was wearing, and Jisoo hoped Hansol would have better sense than to let her chew on it. Not that she had any teeth, yet. She just like gnawing on things.

  
"Why were you kissing her then?" Jeonghan asked, crossing his arms. Seokmin looked at Jisoo pointedly.

  
 _She kissed me,_ Jisoo said.

  
 _You kissed her too,_ Seokmin commented. _You seemed pretty happy about it - kissing her that is. Not like you pushed her off._

  
 _Of course I kissed her back, who wouldn't?_ Jisoo responded rudely, rolling his eyes.

  
 _This is so not going to work,_ Seokmin said, before laughter burst out of him. Jeonghan looked at them confusedly.

  
"It just happened." Seokmin translated. "Jisoo has known Tits for years and vice versa. It's just a dumb friend thing, and she's Russian, so of course she's not normal."

  
Jisoo laughed. Jeonghan didn't really look that impressed, and Jisoo found that he couldn't blame him.

  
"Would you just prefer it if I wasn't in your life?" Jeonghan quipped, completely un-sugar-coated. Seokmin and Jisoo promptly shut the fuck up.

  
 _It's more the case that I'm a mute person in your life,_ Jisoo replied. Seokmin said this aloud. A flash of hurt went over Jeonghan's face.

  
 _You can't understand me at all when we're together. And maybe that can become something else, I just can't believe that you really think I'm worth it,_ Jisoo said. Seokmin spoke aloud again.

  
"Of course you're worth it." Jeonghan said. "Why do you feel you're just worthless, like some piece of shit? You're amazing."

  
Jisoo went catatonic internally for a few moments. _It's just what happens when you're mute,_ he said. _When you're different_

  
"But you're not different!" Jeonghan aruged once Seokmin translated. 

  
Jisoo's _"I am"_ tuned in with Hansol and Wonwoo's "He is!". _I'm alright with been different..._ Jisoo looked at Seokmin as Seokmin looked at him. "No you're not", Seokmin's expression read. _It's just that this difference for you...I'm not like you. It's what it comes down to. And it's not like being black or white, or being young and old. You can make sound and I can't; I can understand your sound, but you can't understand my silence_

  
Jeonghan looked a bit upset. "Do you even like me?" He asked, resting his head in his hand.

  
Of course I do, it's just hard. And it's something that just can't be forgotten or pushed aside and ignored; you just can't live on without it, because, you know, it's all the time, Jisoo explained. _I'm not trying to be an arsehole, Jeonghan; I'm just doing the best I can to tell you the truth_

  
"Hansol, can you take over?" Seokmin called, quickly getting up from the table. "I or Wonwoo'll look after Jangmi."

  
Jisoo sighed and repeated what he said to Hansol as the youngest man of all of them took a seat. Hansol spoke it sound, and Jisoo glanced around the wall to see Wonwoo holding Jangmi in one arm and Seokmin in the other while Seungcheol was quite subdued by it all.

  
"Do you just wanna call on me, sometime?" Jeonghan asked Jisoo, smiling with a soft chuckle. Jisoo felt relieved, and nodded.

  
 _It won't today, or tomorrow, or next week,_ he thought as Jeonghan and Seungcheol walked up the footpath the four block to their house later on. _But I'll call you up, I promise_


	3. Yoon Jeonghan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo and Jeonghan's relationship flourished at a Art Deco Dracula party and Cristina Dontraeovsky wants to film slow dancing in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art Deco Dracula themed party - you've got to hand it to me. I'm a fucking genius for coming up with that one!

"I want to film you literally slow dancing in the dark. Up for it?" Cristina Dontraeovsky asked Jisoo a month later. That day everyone was calling her "Angie". All of them had had a stop-off at McDonald's for breakfast and then had found a park and a lawn to crash on. It was a thing they did on Sunday's; Jisoo, Wonwoo, Cristina Dontraeovsky, Seokmin, and Hansol - with the edition of a mate of his that morning called, Li Chan - would get breakfast out and fuck about in the morning, adn then get drunk that evening. Hansol had sworn, thinking that there was no sugar for his coffee - he had had a sip of the black concontion and had nearly died at the lack of sweetness - when all of a sudden Cristina Dontraeovsky had produced one of the little paper ones you see in cafe's from her handbag. "Ah, you're an angel." Wonwoo had told her.

  
 _"Yebat' kirpich."_ She responded rudely. Jisoo had snorted into his tea; he knew that was Russian for "fuck a brick". The rest of them picked up on how the term "angel" annoyed her, and so they set about calling her the next best thing in the same context: "Angie".

  
"Angie hasn't got a boyfriend by the way." Hansol told Chan, who flushed.

  
"Shut up and leave him alone." Angie barked.

  
"Yeah, she might be a lesbian." Chan said. Everyone burst out laughing. 

  
Angie stood up. "Do I look like a lesbian?" She gestured down to her black 1930's dress with gathered sleeves and v-neckline that was black with red spots, her transparent black stockings, and chunk high-heeled Doc Marten boots. Her thick black hair was worn in a French knot with French make-up, and her thick, arched eyebrows coloured in.  
"Maybe a femme one." Chan considered. Everyone was having hysterics as Angie roared.

  
"PISS OFF!"

"So, what's on for the day?" Wonwoo asked. 

  
"I want to film you literally slow dancing in the dark. Up for it?" Angie asked Jisoo. Everyone went silent. "He needs a partner who can waltz, though?" She looked around at them expectantly.

  
"Soo can't waltz." Hansol said.

  
 _Yes, I can_ , Jisoo said.

  
"Yes, he can." Angie said. "'Cause I taught him."

  
"When?" Wonwoo asked as Seokmin went "I never heard about this." and Chan said to Hansol, "Here we go..."

  
"When I came back from Paris last year. We were out in the back garden at, like, one in the morning."

  
 _You had the Coco Chanel dress on,_ Jisoo said. _The one printed with apples on it_

  
Angie smiled warmly. _Yeah, dorogaya, that's it_

  
 _You came home on the train and you said about the baby in a pram giving the conductor the stinkeye,_ Jisoo smiled.

  
Jisoo heart swelled up and he wanted to kiss her as Ang - Cristina Dontraeovsky laughed, but she laughed silently. _Jesus Christ reborn, that child was,_ she remarked.

  
"It won't be dark for age - all day, yet." Wonwoo said

  
"Yeah, and we're going to do it outside the big art gallery in the city centre." She planned.

  
"Are you making a film?" Hansol quipped.

  
"Probably." She shrugged, lighting up a cigarette.

  
 _Hang on, hang on - you're not doing this just for something to do?_ Jisoo tugged at one of Cristina Dontraeovsky's earlobes.

  
 _I always do art because I need something to do and it happens to be my passion and it makes me shitload of money. People haven't seen a bit of oomph from Cristina Dontraeovsky in 20 weeks. She held his hands. I want to do something with you._ She smiled tenderly, and blew out a perfect smoke ring, but she caught it at her upper lip, so the smoke ring became a heart. Hansol, Chan, Wonwoo and Seokmin oooed in admiration. _See how perfect we can make it?_ She stroked his face.

  
Jisoo found himself believing her. 

  
"What do you do as a job?" Chan asked.

  
"Do you know that big Edwardian style house that was on the news for been covered in paintings all over the walls that had politicans come and see it and that? There's only really special painting in the sitting room - all these women swimming underwater with a night sky full of stars on the roof? Well, Ang - Cristina Dontraeovsky did that, and that's her there." Seokmin explained. Chan was taken aback for a minute.

  
"You're very young." He said to her.

  
"We're all young, baby." She replied, blowing out more cigarette smoke.

  
"So is this a plan, or -"

  
" _Dorogaya,_ I'm just talking." Cristina Donetraeovsky quipped. "I'm just talking to Jisoo about it. It's not fucking "Oceans 11"."

\---------------------

Later that night, they did have a party. Art-Deco Dracula to be exact. Which magically fucking worked.

  
All the girls - colleagues of Seokmin's mostly, and girlfriends of Chan, Hansol, Wonwoo and Seokmin's mates - came dressed in red, black, and purple lipsticks with black eye-makeup and a array of red, purple, black, dark blue, and gold slip-dresses with boots or Doc Martens. The soju and red wine flowed around freely - staples of Cristina Dontraeovsky and the boys drinking diets - but the Russian woman added new ones to the menu for that night only; Bee's Knees, Boulevardier, Scofflaw, and the traditional Lemon, Lime and Bitters. Jisoo had no idea what any of them were, but let the Russian woman make him a Scofflaw - Jeonghan and Suengcheol had come along to the party, and, for some reason, Seungcheol had very good skills as a bar-tender - but Cristina Dontraeovsky insisted on doing all of Jisoo's.

  
 _So it doesn't get fucking tampered with or spat in,_ she explained to him.

  
 _Oh, that's nice,_ Jisoo grinned, exhaling a chuckle. He was going to get her to make him a drink, and then he was going to find Jeonghan. Everywhere people were snogging and dancing and talking; every hallway, everywhere they could sit - floor, table, couch, window sill - they were snogging and talking, and Seokmin had had to yell that no one does club-dancing up on the second floor of the house unless they want to pay for a crack in the ceiling. _Tell me what everything actually is_

  
 _The Bee's Knee is honey syrup, gin and lemon juice. A Boulevardier is a whiskey based Negroni which is just straight alcohol basically, and a Scofflaw - what you're having - is whiskey made from rye grain, vermouth, lime juice, and grenadine,_ Cristina Dontraeovsky explained, smiling a bit at his ignorance of the cocktails.

  
 _What's grenadine?_ Jisoo wrinkled his nose.

  
She held up a bottle of deep red syrup consistency liquid. _Non-alcoholic syrup that takes the edge off, makes things slightly sweet but tart, and it makes a nice colour_

  
 _It's like your lipstick,_ he said.

  
 _It'll do the same thing to you as my lipstick does,_ she winked.

  
 _What's that?_ He asked.

  
 _Get all over your mouth,_ she puckered up.

  
Jisoo laughed. 

  
_And Vermouth is just fortified wine,_ Cristina Dontraeovsky added.

  
 _That one I know,_ Jisoo said as she finished making the drink for him, and he disappeared off. He found Jeonghan out in the back garden, sitting beneath one of the two fig trees that grew there that Seokmin's Dad had helped plant when they first moved in. Hey, Jisoo smiled and waved. Jeonghan's thick black hair was swept over one side of his head, and he was in a black t-shirt and green khaki shorts. Jisoo saw a pair of shoes thrown across the lawn, and he guessed them correctly to be Jeonghan's. Jisoo sat down on the _grass beside him. Jeonghan gaze at him drearily for a moment, before a smile spread over his face._

  
 _I think I had a bit too much to drink._ Jisoo blinked. Jeonghan was speaking silently. _Those Bee's Knee's taste like a lemon and honey head-cold drink with a bit of fire in it, and even then, it's...my throat hurts, if that's makes sense...I don't know. That bitters drink is nice...like lemonade but it's sunset colour, you know what I mean, right?_ Jeonghan inhaled deeply, then exhaled it as a sight through his nose. _Wonwoo's got a really deep, sexy voice too - he chuckled. I like it. Like...he could talk all the way through the phone-book, you know what I mean? Broadcast the news. Or be the smooth FM radio station where they have all of the jazz music that comes from Norway and Denmark and that...you know that station that plays all night and only at night? That's the one_

  
 _Do you like jazz?_ Jisoo asked. Jeonghan shook his head.

  
 _Nope. I just like the aesthetic of it,_ he replied. Jisoo smiled.

  
 _Sounds like you,_ Jisoo commented.

  
 _Yeah?_ Jeonghan looked at him.

  
 _Yeah._ Jisoo nodded.

  
 _Is the Russian thing inside going to sing when I leave tonight?_ Jeonghan inquired.

  
Jisoo grinned, drinking some of the alcohol concoction that - Scofflaw, that's what it was called - that Cristina Dontraeovsky had made him. He didn't mind the taste of it; it was slightly like...he couldn't quite describe it. It burned his throat, but it almost had a tea taste. It was bizarre, but he wanted more of it. _Maybe,_ he answered.

  
 _Where did she learn to sing like that?_ Jisoo offered Jeonghan some of his drink, and as Jeonghan took a sip of it, he winced. Turned out that sip was a huge mouthful, judging by how much went out of the glass.

  
 _Her Grandad taught her I think. I don't know_ , Jisoo replied. _I think she taught herself, actually. She always wanted to do stuff like that_

  
 _I can't get you like that quite perfect, but I know what you're getting at 65% of the time if you don't use too big words or sentences,_ Jeonghan told him.

  
 _Can I kiss you?_ Jisoo asked.

  
 _Oh, Christ no, I'll put you over the legal alcohol limit,_ Jeonghan looked slightly horrified.

  
Jisoo burst out laughing, and Jeonghan laughed too; his was silent, Jeonghan's was not. _That doesn't matter,_ Jisoo commented

  
_You sure?_

  
_Yeah_

  
_Alright,_ Jeonghan pushed his hair back behind his ear, and Jisoo found it so endearing for no reason at all in the world.

  
Jisoo grinned against Jeonghan's mouth as he kissed him. Jisoo could smell and taste the alcohol on him, and the taste of Lemon, Lime and Bitters, Bee's Knees, and Scofflaw wasn't the best taste in the world - actually, it was absolutely fucking disgusting - but Jisoo like how he lost his breath when Jeonghan sucked his tongue, and then his went over Jeonghan's teeth, feeling the grooves and getting more and more mixed alcohol into system.

  
 _Can we get inside and have sex without it being an issue?_ Jeonghan asked Jisoo.

  
_If you want. I'll just put something up against the door_

  
"Wait, wait." Jeonghan said as Cristina Dontraeovsky's synth-discographic-backed voice echoed throughout the space; Jisoo and Jeonghan had jsut made it through the back door that came off the laundry, and in one of the labyrinth hallways, music echoed out entrancingly. The song was the bright and familiar synth/electro pop, the modern Russian disco that Jisoo listened to most nights before going to sleep. Even though the song was in Russian, all the party guests danced and kissed and held each other; hair flew through the hair with arms and legs and empty drink glasses, and Jisoo wondered if Cristina Dontraeovsky herself had played her own record, or whether Hansol was taking the piss because he was three quarters cut, or because someone had picked up his phone and found his playlist, which was Cristina Dontraeovsky's whole album, _"Prikhodi Domoy K Moyemu Serdtsu"._

  
_"Potomu chto v moyey golove (V moyey golove ya vse delayu pravil'no)_

  
_Kogoda ty zvonish' (Kogoda ty zvonish', ya proshchu i ne budu drat'sya)_

  
_Potomu chto nashi (Eto momenty, kogda ya igrayu v temnote)_

  
_My byli dikimi i fluroestsentnymi, prikhodi domoy k moyemu serdtsu."_ Jisoo lips moved along to the song as Jeonghan moved from side to side and a smile bloomed like a flower on his face at the discography paired with the Russian woman's voice; it was like a magical spell. _No wonder people fall for each other with songs like this playing,_ a voice in the back of Jisoo's head murmured. _These songs are made to fall in love to_

  
Jeonghan gasped softly at the sudden fade out period of where the discography became haunting and beautiful, a trace of the soul lingering in the air. 

  
_"V golove ya vse delaru pravil'no..._

  
_V golove ya vse delaru pravil'no."_ Jisoo looked at Jeonghan and moved his mouth along to the song, but in Korean rather than Russian.

  
In my head I do everything right

  
In the doorway of the laundry they kissed again and Jisoo felt something shift in chest, almost like a internal cry, as the fade-out period played a soundtrack to the start of what he felt was going to be an extraordinary love life with Yoon Jeonghan.


	4. Prekrasnyy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo and Wonwoo perform the "slow dancing in the dark" shoot for Cristina Dontraeovsky, and it leads to a party where Jeonghan is as silent as Jisoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Danish song in this book by the way is "Wings" by Birdy, translated into Danish, and Birdy herself - real name Jasmine Lucilla Elisabeth Van Den Bogaerde - is a Danish girl. I heard a slowed-down version of this song, and I loved it, and then I heard a Danish friend singing the English version of "Wings" in Danish language, and that had me set on writing it into the work. I decided that there was going to a musical piece in this chapter to obliterate communication and connection between Jeonghan and Jisoo, but I just couldn't find something that had enough meaning, and enough "oomph". Wings, too, itself is a song about sexuality and virginity and growing up; the development of relationships, and consequences and matters we remember for the rest of our lives as we exploit our youth and extort the youth of others, and generally try not to fuck up amidst a culture and society where it just makes us think and dream of that one person

Summer became Autumn, and all was right in the world.

  
Hilariously, his partner turned out to be Wonwoo, who only got the courage to do it in front of Jeonghan after six beers and a patronizing Russian pep-talk from Cristina Dontraeovsky who was getting called "Prekrasnyy" that day. She had skyped her Father in Seokmin and Jisoo's kitchen before they drove out into the city, and her Grandfather had called her that when he came onto the call, and when he ended the call. Jisoo knew the word; "Beautiful". 

  
And she was beautiful.

  
The shoot turned out at Dusk on the last day of Summer, and Wonwoo said to Prekrasnyy what was she trying to put across with having two men dancing together. 

  
"The art of it is that you can't tell if it's two men, two women, a man and a woman at first in the darkness; they look the same and they look unalike. All you see are two human beings moving together beautifully. They trust each other, hold each other, keep the other one here -" Prekrasnyy gestured closely to her body. "This is the embodiment of love, a show of love. And if in the end they find it is two men, or they think it is two women, or a man and a woman; if they just presume it is a man and a woman, or if they just see two human beings being beautiful together - that is just it. It is as it is." She explained.

  
"What's the song?" Wonwoo asked. It turned out to be a slowed-down version of "Use Somebody" by Kings Of Leon. Two pieces were to be used of the song; the first thirty-eight seconds of the instrumental introduction and background vocalization, and then from 2:56 to 3:41. The whole gang, plus a crowd of tourists and locals - Jisoo cringed inwardly at the sight of what they would see as a "gay couple", "faggot couple", dancing about like prats. But, incredibly, Prekrasnyy had turned up with all her equipment, and two friends of hers - also Russian - with a gimbal camera that had to be transported in a van, and two Steadicams, plus tracking. For this, security tape had to be put up, and two night watchmen from the museum helped to keep everything in proper line. The Russian woman with her black hair and 1930's clothes and red lipstick was famous over two continents; it drew attention and sponsorship and investment. 

  
And even though they were covered by darkness, but light enough just to make out mouths and jawbones and silhoutttes - Jisoo realized that Prekrasnyy was making them her art. They were going to be the face of this new exhibition, this new collection of pieces. That, and Prekrasnyy had said that she wanted to take film of him by herself to go with a reprise version of what they were making that night; the film was going to be called transcendence even though it only went for just over two minutes, and then there would be "Transcendence: The Reprise". 

  
_This is my love for you, how I want to honour you,_ Prekrasnyy - Cristina Dontraeovsky - had told him, knees tucked up against her chest with an arm around them as she smoked, surrounded by his tangled bed linen like a nest while she wore one of his shirts. Jisoo knew to never let Jeonghan go, because how he handled all he had to contend with - more often than not, just Cristina Dontraeovsky in her own right - he did it amazingly. He coped with it, he didn't get jealous, angry, bitter, sad. He didn't think Jisoo was cheating on him, but if anything, it did confirm his opinion that she was a bit bloody queer. _You're not just one thing, dorogaya; you're not just mute. No person on this Earth alive is just one thing; not me, not Jeonghan, not the rest of the boys. And we've done this before, you and I. It's just been locked away up inside us...our little secret. For you and me only, baby_

  
She had taken hold of his wrist, and had ran her thumb over the underside of it, feeling his pulse-beat, and the dark blue vein beneath translucently pale skin. 

  
The camera can't see faults like mine, Jisoo had found himself replying. For any and all of the Russian woman's faults and flaws, many of which were horrendously indescribable and plentiful, she was kind and tender and loving. _You know how they say love is blind, right? What about it been mute?_

  
She had gazed at him gently. _Let me make it for you. You might see, what would that I._

  
What they filmed that night would be silent, no sound equipment recording. But someone had rigged up a stereo system to play the two sets of trimmed music to Wonwoo and Jisoo to dance too. 

  
_Are you scared?_ Jisoo asked Wonwoo, but the younger man didn't know what he said because he could barely make out Jisoo's body before him, let alone his moving mouth. 

  
"Everything's alright." Wonwoo said, feeling either way it would suit.

  
 _I knew you were,_ Jisoo replied. Wonwoo picked his hands up in his and they sorted their bodies into the suitable arrangements of Jisoo's hand on his shoulder and Wonwoo's hand on his waist with their others interlaced together by their fingertips. _Don't be scared; it'll turn out so beautiful. Prekrasnyy is a brilliant filmmaker. I wondered to myself earlier why I didn't shout and scream and refuse her, and refuse all of this. And then I realized; as strange and as unorthodox and as weird as it all is, I love it. And I love her. She's my best friend; best girl friend, I'm not shutting out on you guys. She's the best thing Hansol ever bought to me. She's one of the best things I've ever had in this life. I know I shouldn't be saying this stuff about her; I should be saying it about Jeonghan. I'm with him, not her, and I probably need to remember that more._

  
Suddenly, the music played, and Jisoo fell into a rhythm with Wonwoo that was natural and timeless for all it's fluidity. "I hope it's going to make you notice. I hope it's going to make you notice...someone like me..."

  
On the first "oh-woah-oh" after the line broke, Wonwoo swung Jisoo around in the air, each other's hands holding the one another perfectly as Jisoo's feet left the ground, and Jisoo couldn't help but let out a silent gasp at everything around him; the reality of what they were doing, he dancing with Wonwoo in the dark, the sound of the music in his ears, all the people watching in the crowd and how they had cheered, and how Prekrasnyy had moved forward and swiftly with the Steadicam, taking the shot before moving away again, utterly effortless and perfectly balanced.

  
_You know how they say love is blind, right? What about it been mute?_

  
"Someone like me...."

\--------------------

"How does it feel?!" Hansol called out as everyone crammed back inside Jisoo and Seokmin's house, and the neighbour's curtains twitched as Jisoo fell in the darkness and slammed against Prekrasnyy's mate's van...which set off the alarm. As a reply to Hansol, everyone let out a cheer.

  
"You don't need to yell!" Wonwoo scolded, but he looked a little bit high; part of his outburst had been fueled by a middle aged woman sticking her upper body out of a window at the front of a house and yelling about noise restrictions and calling the police. But as for being high, Jisoo felt much the same. Prekrasnyy floated into the house gracefully, her heeled shoes clicking lightly on the ground. She scratched the back of her head, and then set about turning on the television and the lights on in the sitting room and a couple of the hallways as everyone talked and chattered, and Prekrasnyy's two Russian friends were introduced formally to everyone. They were two men; Vladimir and Ivan.

How typical.

"So...are we getting drunk now?" Seokmin found Jisoo and asked. Jisoo shrugged.

"She's your woman!" Seokmin responded over Prekrasnyy. Jisoo took one look at him, and grinned. "She is!" Seokmin elaborated. "You're the only one that can keep her under control!"

_I won't say anything about that. You're right, she's nuts; she does need a leash sometimes,_ Jisoo replied, still grinning. _You think she's cool, though, right?_

Hansol came over and joined in the conversation. _I think she gives Jeonghan the shits,_ he said silently. Jisoo rolled his eyes.

_Jeonghan knows Prekrasnyy is part of the package,_ Jisoo said.

_Why the fuck?_ Hansol frowned. Jisoo opened his mouth to retort when suddenly Vladimir and Ivan yelled out in shockingly pronounced Korean, "Let's get drunk!"

_Oh, fucking hell,_ Jisoo found even himself saying.

"DON'T WRECK THE HOUSE!" Prekrasnyy shouted.

\----------------------

"It's shit!" Wonwoo said to Vladimir. "Communism just doesn't work, and most Russians are mental -" He pointed at Prekrasnyy. "And they need to be kept on a leash because the last time they were given "democracy" and "freedom", you idiots squandered it and it's the reason why you have sanctions, no money, and poverty is everywhere!"

Jisoo watched on with Chan. "Vlad will break his jaw." Chan quipped before sculling the last of his beer.

_Want another?_ Jisoo asked. Chan nodded. "Yeah, thanks, Hyung." 

_And, sorry about Cristina Dontraeovsky earlier. She likes you, even though it doesn't seem like it,_ he added. Chan shrugged. He didn't seem to have much of a problem at getting at what Jisoo was saying. 

"She's alright, hyung." Chan replied. "She's a bit mean, you know? How did she kill her last boyfriend?"

Jisoo smiled widely. _They broke up, but she punched his best mate. They were English guys._

Chan laughed. "That's pretty funny, actually." He thumbed his brow. "Why punch the best friend?"

_He called her Stalin's babe,_ Jisoo told him. Chan laughed more.

"Good one to him." Chan raised the empty beer bottle. "You're not drinking anything?"

Jisoo shook his head. _All of these people are going to crash here tonight, and I don't like having hangovers. I don't drink too much just so I can avoid them. Everyone worries when I get on with it; apparently with me it's more morning sickness than hangover._ Jisoo nipped off to grab Chan another beer, and when he came back, a girl - had to be someone Hansol knew - was coaxing him into the sitting room where someone else was playing music and people were dancing...and Vladimir and Ivan were doing the kossack with beers on their head, and Prekrasnyy was spinning around and around in circles, banging a animal skin drum. 

"Fuck." Chan said, popping the cap from the top of the bottle. It started to be shared between the three of them. The girl's name was Daul. She had dyed white-blonde hair, sharp monolids, but a nevertheless pretty face with a upper lip slightly bigger than her lower lip. She had a leminscate tattoo in-between her collarbones at the hollow of her throat, with black lipstick. They watched the display by the Russians, and joined in the applause and the cheering when it finished. Prekrasnyy's breasts rose and fell heavy and attractive up and down in her black dress as she bowed with Vladimir and Ivan. 

That whole masquerade had been done to "Golden" by Harry Styles, Jisoo found out. He also realized he wasn't spending much time with Jeonghan, and he found him sitting on the dining room table on his phone; the artificial white glow of it made his paling skin look even more flawless and white. Jeonghan didn't noticed anyone had sat up on the table beside him until Jisoo stroked the back of his neck. _H-E-L-L-O,_ he traced on the skin there.

Jeonghan looked around at him blankly, and Jisoo wondered how just far to been three quarters cut he was. What are you doing? Jisoo asked.

"Yeah, sorry..." Jeonghan shook his head, gathering his senses, and turned off his phone. What was all of the noise earlier? he asked.

_The Russians,_ Jisoo replied simply. Something like a smile came over Jeonghan's mouth, before he leant in to Jisoo. Jisoo couldn't taste any alcohol on his lips or the inside of his mouth, and Jisoo couldn't smell it on Jeonghan either. The one taste he did get though, was something sharp and bitter and sweet, like burnt sugar, but there was a char to it. Jisoo wondered if Jeonghan had been smoking; maybe that's why he had looked...well, frankly, dead and spaced-out. 

"Am I getting this right with you?" Jeonghan asked Jisoo as they both pulled away; it was something effortless, like a subconscious nature. They definitely weren't having as much rampant sex as everyone else thought; Prekrasnyy been a slight issue there, still sleeping in Jisoo's bed most nights, but it was more the fact that they simply...they just hadn't had sex. And just because they were young and new into a relationship, it didn't mean that they did it like rabbits either. Jisoo had a terrible, sinking feeling that haunted him on and off throughout the days that Jeonghan hadn't really enjoyed it, the one time they had had sex.

It's sex with a mute person after all, Jisoo thought. That's just what it is. He fiddled with the hem sleeve of his long-sleeved shirt.

"Jisoo?" Jeonghan asked. Jisoo realized he had gone off into his own little world.

_No, everything's fine,_ Jisoo smiled brightly. _I came to look for you; I'm sorry for not finding you earlier. Spending too much time with everyone else_

Jeonghan shrugged, looking down at the ground. "No, it's ok...yeah, nah, that's alright."

_I'm sorry; I didn't mean to leave you by yourself,_ Jisoo said, interlacing his fingers with Jeonghan's. _I thought one of the other's might have come around with you, or - where's Seungcehol?_

"Out kissing someone in the garden." Jeonghan replied.

_Oh, for fuck's sake,_ Jisoo rolled his eyes. _That's great. That's typical_

Jeonghan laughed. 

_How long have you been by yourself?_ Jisoo asked. Jeonghan shrugged again, but there was something sharp about his movements which made Jisoo realize just as sharply that Jeonghan's been on his own ever since they got home. Which was about two hours, now. Jeonghan suddnely looked up at him, bumping their shoulders together.

"It's just me. I'm not interested. Wonwoo was talking to one of the Russian guys about communism - urgh, like...!" Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "And everyone else is just talking bullshit and drinking and is Cristina Dontraeovsky alright?"

_You're kidding me,_ Jisoo said. _She's on cloud nine_

"She just looks really sad, that's all." Jeonghan said. "Actually, she always looks really sad. Like she doesn't fit in, and she's missing you and loving you and that."

Jisoo heart skipped a beat in his chest.

_Jeonghan -_ he began, but the other man cut him off.

"I'm not picking a fight by saying it, I'm just saying it." Jeonghan shrugged again; it seemed to be a language of theirs. "She's just always really sad; not fitting in and been on the outside. Or like she's moving those balls gypsy palm readers have and all of us are inside it; untouchable, and you know, just different things all on their own."

_Crystal balls,_ Jisoo said. Jeonghan didn't see his mouth move. He was looking back down at the ground.

"So, yeah..." Jeonghan squeezed his hand. "That's just that."

Jisoo felt terrible. There was no other way of describing it. He just felt absolutely fucking awful. As though someone had ripped a whole through his throat and chest and stomach, gouging out his organs and then tipping petrol on them, stinging the blood and tissue and flesh and internal matter, before lighting a match and actually setting him alight. The last part of that pain that came over the course of a couple of seconds and the conversation hit him the worst and the hardest. It made him feel completely un-human, and his head light.

Jisoo didn't know what to do.

In the sitting room, Prekrasnyy was singing, and someone was playing acoustic and electric guitars while hands clapped along with a drumbeat on the animal-skin instrument. Jisoo recognised the song as been in Danish, one of the languages that Prekrasnyy spoke and plied as her art. 

_"Sollys kommer snigende i_

  
_Oplyser vores hud_

  
_Vi ser dagen gå forbi_

  
_Historier om alt, hvad vi gjorde_

  
_Det fik mig til at tænke på dig._

  
_Det fik mig til at tænke på dig._

  
_Under en billion stjerner_

  
_Vi dansede på toppen af biler_

  
_Tog billeder af scenen_

  
_Så langt fra hvor vi er_

  
_De fik mig til at tænke på dig._

  
_De fik mig til at tænke på dig."_

Jeonghan chuckled very quietly as the break just before the chorus came, Prekrasnyy's voice raw and beautiful and the song itself was slowed-down in style and...it was an infinite soundtrack. "She sounds so good." He said to Jisoo.

  
_"Åh lys går ned_

  
_I det øjeblik vi er faret vild og fundet_

  
_Jeg vil bare være ved din side._

  
_Hvis disse vinger kunne flyve_

  
_Resten af vores liv."_

"Funny, you know...when I hear that I think of you, and when I see you I think of aesthetic stuff like that." Jeonghan told Jisoo. "I should probably see you sort of different...but all your silence and like...even the way you move and breath is just so different. You're like...this celestial being. You're not quite human, and not in a bad way. You're above all of that mortal shit like jobs and paying bills and shit. You're an escape; this paradise."

By the time Jeonghan stopped speaking, Prekrasnyy had completed the second verse and was halfway through the second chorus.

_"..._ _Jeg vil bare være ved din side._

_Hvis disse vinger kunne flyve_

_Resten af vores liv._

_Åh damn disse vægge_

_  
I det øjeblik vi er ti meter høje_

_  
Og hvordan du fortalte mig efter det hele_

_  
Vi ville huske i aften_

_  
Resten af vores liv."_

A soaring instrumental discographic ballad suddenly soared through the air, accompanied by the "oh-woah-oh" vocalizations, a run of all notes like pub-singing blending in with Vladimir and Ivan's wholesome richness and Prekrasnyy's falsetto's. Jisoo gazed at Jeonghan in wonder of what Jeonghan has just said to him about himself. It was a shock and it was...Jisoo couldn't think properly, feel properly. If he wasn't sitting he would have gone weak at the knees. Jeonghan had utterly robbed him of his breath, and over the sound of the music Jisoo couldn't hear or feel his own heartbeat pumping in his chest.

_"Hvis disse vinger kunne flyve…"_

Jisoo went to suddenly speak, but he was robbed of the chance by Prekrasnyy singing again. The instrumental discography faded out to where it was just the acoustic guitar and the drum-beat for a few lines, and both Jisoo and Jeonghan were left with no choice but to be silent as the sound washed over them. 

_"Åh lys går ned_

  
_I det øjeblik vi er faret vild og fundet_

  
_Jeg vil bare være ved din side._

  
_Hvis disse vinger kunne flyve…"_

The instruments soared into playing life once more for the final hook of the Danish song. _"Åh damn disse vægge_

  
_I det øjeblik vi er ti meter høje_

  
_Og hvordan du fortalte mig efter det hele_

  
_Vi ville huske i aften_

  
_Resten af vores liv...."_

Prekrasnyy 's voice drew out to a beautifully constructed and held falsetto on the last word "liv", and Jisoo could just imagine her so clearly in his head - her dancing, her arms moving, her eyes closed to half lids and the way her mouth moved as she sung - as though he could directly watch her then, a spectator to her performance. 

But, by then, for whatever he had gone to say to Jeonghan and Jeonghan to him - more on the matter - it was too late. They just had to rest in their silence, as the crowd in the house screamed for an encore

\------------------

_How to kill yourself,_ Jisoo typed into the incognito tab on his phone.

  
He wasn't dead serious; but he was musing over it quietly. It was three days after the party, and not a single word that Jeonghan had said to him and fell incorrectly or had stopped bouncing around on the inside of Jisoo's skull. 

  
_Funny, you know...when I hear that I think of you, and when I see you I think of aesthetic stuff like that. I should probably see you sort of different...but all your silence and like...even the way you move and breath is just so different. You're like...this celestial being. You're not quite human, and not in a bad way. You're above all of that mortal shit like jobs and paying bills and shit. You're an escape; this paradise_

  
The google search loaded. Jisoo scrolled through what it brought up for half an hour, before turning off his phone and texting Cristina Dontraeovsky. 

  
Send me a recording of that Danish song, he asked her. A few minutes later, Seokmin knocked on his door, and came in. It was half-past Midnight, and he had noticed the thin bar of gold light coming from beneath Jisoo's bedroom door.

  
 _Hey,_ he said.

  
 _God, what is it?_ Jisoo's face fell.

  
 _What do you mean?_ Seokmin asked, sitting down on the end of Jisoo's bed. He didn't like to think that his presence caused such an issue.

  
 _I know all of this,_ Jisoo moved his finger up and down over Seokmin's figure. I know what this means.

  
 _I'm not doing anything, I just came in to see you,_ Seokmin huffed. Jisoo looked at him. Jisoo was right. Seokmin had come in to talk to him about something, but he decided he wasn't the right person. 

  
He needed bloody Wonwoo. As long as Wonwoo was able to do it. It couldn't be anyone else - not Hansol, definitely not. Least of all bloody Cristina Dontraeovsky. That meant an hour of texting with Wonwoo because Jisoo wasn't allowed to over-hear them talking - and nearly having a row - over it on the phone until it was then decided to be talked to him about it. 

  
Either way, before he had got cold feet, Seokmin had figured out what he was going to say. The amount of maturity and just...sense, he had had to develop over the course of the last month and two weeks - three weeks? - to get to this point of saying this to Jisoo was terrifying and astonishing.

  
_It was really painful to me to see how upset you were a few weeks ago; how you go on and live your life and you everything so good, but always at the back of you and the forefront of your life is your inability to speak, and much grief and pain and misery that causes you in turn. I don't want you to feel like that - none of us do. Wonwoo, Hansol, Cristina Dontraeovsky. There's a man I know from when I was studying at university; he is a ear, nose and throat specialist. He's a really lovely man; honourable man, too. I've talked to him about your muteness, and your muteness been brought on by your not developing for long enough in the womb rather than a neurological disorder or a psychomotor condition. He's utterly fascinated, frankly. I've told him as well how much grief your muteness gives you, and he's a really, really deep man. He understands it properly; more than I do._

  
_He says he can give your a surgery, and give you an implant into your throat to act as the voice-box you never had. It will open your throat up inside more as well, but...I can't get it word for word, but this implant will give sound because when we speak, everything moves and rhythms there inside to each word. And this implant will help you to talk. You'll...you'd be able to speak. You'd be able to have a voice._

  
But Seokmin couldn't say that to Jisoo.

  
_Why aren't you asleep yet?_

  
_Where's Cristina Dontraeovsky?_

  
_With either Vladimir or Ivan or someone else she knows. Her whole life doesn't revolve around me and all of this_

  
_It sort of does_

  
_Oh, shut up,_ Jisoo said, visibly uncomfortable. Soekmin let up

  
can't you sleep? he asked Jisoo. jisoo shook his head.

  
 _I'm not overtired or anything like that...well, sort of, I am,_ Jisoo's shoulders slumped.

  
_Want to come in with me?_

  
_And this is the guy who was saying about Jeonghan and Cristina Dontraeovsky?_

  
_Well, you've always been a bit of a fuck-boy,_ Seokmin commented. _Take me all the way, that sort of thing_

  
Jisoo's mouth fell open. _Seokmin -_

  
 _Hey, it's true,_ Seokmin interjected.

  
 _Cheer's,_ Jisoo said sarcastically. 

  
_So, are you coming or not?_ Seokmin asked. Jisoo looked at him

  
 _Whenever Cristina Dontraeovsky is around, she puts the wind up you,_ Jisoo pointed at Seokmin. S _o you get a bit more authority, a bit more...balls_

  
Seokmin shoved Jisoo down onto the bed, his body over the top of Jisoo's. a familiar look came into Jisoo's eyes even though there was a clear amount of searching wonder there, and his lips were still parted. The memories of Cristina Dontraeovsky - well, actually, not her so much, but Jeonghan, hung about in the air between them. Jisoo thought that Seokmin should know he really shouldn't be doing this.

  
but, then, Jisoo had sort of elected himself to getting shared around by practically everyone in their group. 

  
All of a sudden, he got thinking about a night last December with Wonwoo

\-----------------

Something had lit up inside Jisoo at the first sight of Wonwoo that night out in the freezing cold. Inside of him, it was like the beginning of a song. it was amazing. And it felt so good. It felt so right. Everything that Jisoo had in him gravitated suddenly towards this man; it was inexplicable and in the strangest way, it was utterly simplistic. Completely natural. Even though he had known Wonwoo for a couple of years, and he had been around with everyone, and he knew Wonwoo knew about it, and Wonwoo knew that Jisoo knew wherever he was concerned. But Wonwoo had never really made an advancement; as though fucking around and having flings and extorting youth had made him the spouse, or otherwise property to Seokmin and Hansol and the endless series of university mates and colleagues that virtually trapezed about. Wonwoo sometimes watched him, touched him, made comments. But he mostly thought about him. 

  
Every year Seoul city held a vintage car collection and show, of which the prime sponsor was Wonwoo's family's mechanic and aircraft business. Each year, about five Jaguars, three Bentleys, seven Aston Martins, two Mosley's, four Leyland mini coopers and five fiats were held on display in the museum accompanying the Jeon's shop and warehouses.   
Wonwoo had invited him to come along and see it; to Wonwoo it was just a normal occurrence. When Jisoo told Cristina Dontraeovsky about it, he found she was more delighted over the fact that the Jeon's wouldn't be having any German cars in the building more than anything.

  
 _I don't get that,_ Jisoo had said to Wonwoo as he came out of he and Seokmin's house into Wonwoo's car.

  
"What don't you get?" Wonwoo asked. Before they drove off from the curb, Jisoo typed it up on his phone. Wonwoo had a bit of laugh.

  
"It's morbid." he said. His car was a black 68 Mustang. He put it into first gear, and pulled away from the curb and out towards the deep inner city. "Russia had never officially ended world war two with Germany. they never signed the paperwork. because, like...Germany storms Russia and - just, the horror they commit. They killed 21 million Russian men, women and children. Russians don't like Germans, even after seventy-eight years or whatever it's been." 

  
_Jesus Christ,_ Jisoo replied. Wonwoo laughed a little bit.

  
_"School in Russia is pretty mental."_

  
_Cristina Dontraeovsky never went to school in Russia,_ Jisoo replied, but, then, a moment later, he was glad that Wonwoo hadn't seen his mouth move because the younger man had had to adjust the gears. Jisoo couldn't believe he so easily could have blurted one of the russian woman's secrets.

  
At the collection's display, it was opening night, and there was hundreds of people everywhere; representatives from BMW, Audi, and Porsche - who now owned most of the English car brands - vintage car enthusiasts, collectors, enthusiasts, dealer, press, and journalists from various magazines. 

  
"We were running around all day - me, Bo Huk, Dad, Uncle, and a couple of our mates - hiding things." Wonwoo said to Jisoo as they walked in side by side to the main display in the factory, where the vintage and modern cars were displayed on stages with lights fitted in to the platforms, and people bustled everywhere in nicely tailored evening clothes, with cameras and phones out, and the sound of men talking and talking and talking. Jisoo grinned up at Wonwoo.

  
 _What would you have to hide here?_ Jisoo asked, laughing. Wonwoo glanced down at him, then didn't say anymore about the matter, instead changing the topic to the inside of the engine of a £500,000 Mosely. The second warehouse had been transformed into a miniature restaurant with a live-band playing, and across the tables alcohol was been sculled by the barrel and business deals were been arranged; the red suicide door fiat to be purchased at the highest bid of £47,000, the black Mosely collected at £758,990...  
The sheer extravagance of something so industrial amazed Jisoo.

  
"Want a drink?" Wonwoo asked him forty-five minutes later after nearly pissing themselves just then over the clown-car sized fiat; it was a rare 1969 model with reversed suicide doors, and Wonwoo had just finished a speech on how a Fiat couldn't get up a molehill without the help of a Abanarth engine.

  
So...never, ever buy a Fiat? Jisoo asked when Wonwoo came back with two beers. They were sitting up privately by themselves in Wonwoo's Dad and Uncles's offices. One of the guard dogs - a huge Alsatian - was half alseep under the desk, his tail waving back and forth as he half-dreamt, and half stink-eyed Jisoo.

  
"You're Mazda's a good little car, keep it." Wonwoo said. "Oh, and Dad says at 5000 miles it needs a service; just ring us up when the numbers on the dash get to it."

  
 _I know all this, you don't need to baby me,_ Jisoo snapped at him. They both fell into a silence.

  
 _What's up with you?_ Jisoo asked. _You're miserable, lately_

  
Wonwoo looked down at the ground; he hadn't seen Jisoo's mouth move. Jisoo smacked his shoulder, and repeated himself. Wonwoo just looked at him.

  
 _Look, I know about the car, alright?_ Jisoo exclaimed. _You're fucking Father tells me every-time he sees me!_ He drank some of the beer. _And I know that he thinks I'm a faggot, right?_

  
Wonwoo didn't bother paying any attention to him.

  
"Want me to run you home?" He asked lightly a few minutes later. Jisoo swung the bottle at his head as an answer. 

  
_I'm sorry, ok?_ Jisoo sighed. _I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It's just with my birthday coming up Seokmin and Hansol are on tender-hooks because every birthday I have to go to the Doctor and get scans and tests done because of my throat, and it's driving me nuts. And I don't want to do the Doctor's; it's shit. It's not like my hormones from getting older and being a man are going to make a voicebox grow in my throat - cancer, maybe, that's the problem. Apparently my body might "invent" a way to fill the hollow space..._ Jisoo pointed to his throat. _With a nice big fat tumor. That's nice, isn't it?_ he drank more of the beer. It was quite strong, but it tasted good. _Or some other weird thing. And I know that I get nasty as well, but I'm sick to death of this. And, hey, what if I did get cancer?! It's not like it's got anything to feed on! If I hear someone say one more time, "You're underweight.", I will break their jaw. Rosie's Dad said to me the other week that I looked a bit on the thin side, Peter Weiss at the clinic asked me if I've had soreness or blood from my throat; is that why I'm not eating as much?_ Jisoo scowled darkly. _I'm sick of it. Can't people just leave me alone and shut up?_

  
And through all of what he said, Wonwoo had no understanding of it. 

  
_And, hey -_ Jisoo poked his shoulder. _I heard you and Seokmin talking about Cristina Dontraeovsky when you all thought I couldn't hear you because I decided to go to bed early. I love that woman; why are all of you such dicks about her? And why are you so shitty to Hansol? So what that's she's Russian - been Russian doesn't make her weird!_ Jisoo stopped. _Ok, it does a little bit, but it's not like that. And so what that she wears "grandma clothing"?_ Jisoo glared at Wonwoo. _You and Seokmin are just fucking flower-boys and Hansol..._ Jisoo threw his hands in up the air. _Hansol does as Hansol does. That's that. Cristina Dontraeovsky - she's better looking than any other woman I've ever seen by a huge - one huge fucking mile! Is this the age where we suddenly shit on beautiful women and just suck up to fat, ugly, fucking hideous lesbians or something?_

  
"Jisoo, stop it." Wonwoo said, seeing Jisoo's mouth go a hundred miles a hour. "You're not making any sense."

  
 _I'm not making any sound!_ Jisoo retorted. _And you know something with your Dad and your Uncle? How the fuck do two short, getting fat, ugly middle-aged guys have this thing where they walk into a room and there's...it's just silence? They command this fear and fucking respect because people know they can singlehandedly destroy their business and fuck people in general? How the hell do two short, fat, ugly middle aged guys have that fucking power, this just thing about them where they can do that?_  
Jisoo sucked in a breath suddenly, overwhelmed by everything and his outburst of the last ten minutes.

  
 _Why can't I just be like that? Do that?_ he said, half to himself. They went to silence again, even thought all it really had been was silence. No one can relate to somebody who cannot speak, he eventually said.

  
"Anywhere and anytime with you - all of you. Seokmin, Hansol, even that Russian woman for what she's wroth - I constantly feel like I'm just treading water. And you know? Sometimes I wonder why I just can't be like my Dad, too...like Bo Hyuk is." Wonwoo paused, with a self-deprecating kind of chuckle. "And it's the same for you...a bit?"

  
 _I love the house that we live in_ , Jisoo said of he and Seokmin. _And I love you all too much._ His index finger touched Wonwoo's cheekbone. _Sometimes...my heart and everything just turns on and off all on it's own. I don't really know what to do about it. But Cristina Dontraeovsky does...and I don't think it's because she's Russian. I think it's just because she knows me in a way that's different from you guys_

  
And it turns it's the same for you. It's the same for you

  
Jisoo gazed at Wonwoo, and Wonwoo's eyes slid across to his, and he gazed at Jisoo too. "I'm sorry that you can't speak." Wonwoo said, his hand coming up to touch Jisoo's face, quietly amazed that he was able to do it, even if tomorrow or even later that night the bastard and/or the fuck-boy in Jisoo would come out and he'd just forget about it, and single-handedly flip Wonwoo like he was nothing, and Wonwoo would just be back by himself. Like he always was. He hadn't seen a mate of his, Kim Mingyu, in ages because the six foot two bastard had gone down to snog wombats in rivers in Australia on a eco-conservation site or something. And Wonwoo just couldn't stop feeling it. "I hope you get mended. And I've lost a lot of my friends through belief that I'm an instrument. Fuck me if you must then, treat me like an old friend. I can't exist within my own head, so I just want to come and exist around with you and Seokmin and Hansol, sort of obsessive or not, whether it's in your bed or not. And I know you think sometimes, "If only you could hear what I said"...but you see, you're scared and you're not scared, and it's...it's the same with all of us. With Seokmin and Hansol - what if your body did make a tumor to fill in the hole in your throat? Or what if you were in some other way? I'm not scared - we're not scared - but we always get this way sometimes."

  
 _Die,_ slipped out of Jisoo's mouth. Sometimes when humiliating memories or otherwise aggravating ones came up, he just said "cunt" or "die" or something like that under his breath, exorcising out the torture. _I just want to die, sometimes. I just want you to die. I want everyone to die sometimes. Just so I don't have to contend with it and listen to everyone else's shit. I'm not scared, either, Wonwoo. I'm not scared._

  
Everything about spending time with Wonwoo reminded him of the beginning of a song, and as Jisoo kissed him, or rather Wonwoo kissed him...it was all tangled up, all that reason and logic. As they kissed each other, for Jisoo it was like the synth discography of a British song - and it was like a British song. British songs were individual and just automatically indentifiable...it was something effortless and indescribable and easy. It meant so much as well, in that naturalism. That was how Jisoo felt. 

  
"You should come around and see my Dad more." Wonwoo said to him, not too long after, fingertips unconciously going to his mouth as they pulled away from each other, their movements completely equal. Jisoo gazed at him then and realized of all the times he had obsessed over Wonwoo's company and his personality and just having the younger man in his life; he would have killed just to be close to him, and close he had been, breaking the line of close and draping himself over Wonwoo, teasing him, pulling him in. Jisoo realized that to some extent that he had seriously fucked Wonwoo up. But that was how it was. And they had to go on and live with it and deal with it like it was nothing. it's just as it was.

  
Just hold me close, Jisoo asked, his arms coming up into the air, and wrapping around Wonwoo's back, beneath his jacket, feeling the warmth and the scent of him. Only this morning he had had the beginnings of a obsessive infatuation, this sort of hunger and bliss - like a epiphany. It made him light on his feet and in his head, floating about and crashing into things, making Seokmin yell but then, sort of laugh as well. None of it mattered; it was so sweet and cool. There was no other way of saying it. It then mellowed into something more tender, more...gentlemanly? Was that the right way of putting it? It was graceful and cultured and controlled. It was tender. And all of a sudden, Jisoo had snapped and it had crashed. Like coming down from a cocaine or heroin high. It might have been a build-up of things Wonwoo had talked to him about that he didn't understand, and despite his best intentions, he didn't like anything or want anything, just apart from looking at the beautiful old cars...and been in Wonwoo's presence. He had been so fixated on Wonwoo, just getting about to Wonwoo...and then he just crashed.

  
And hopefully not too late he was trying to make up for it.

  
But Wonwoo remembered things like this. And it hurt him. But he kept it quietly tucked away; sometimes one could tell it got at him, but most of it he just sealed away, and, therefore, walked away. Been raised by his Dad...he and Bo Hyuk did things differently. Even if there were things that just didn't fit. Wonwoo wasn't too good mechanically; he knew all about engines and how they worked and how to fix them, but when it came to the practice, fixing things with his hands, it wasn't as natural to him as the study of it had been by watching the hands and listening to the voices of his Father, Uncle and Grandfather, when the old man had been active at the buildings. So he was chained to the shop counter, and apart from that, he didn't have any other life. Wonwoo had never had successful girlfriends; Jisoo didn't say it, but he bloody well knew that Wonwoo's Father played a significant role in their consistent failures. And Bo Hyuk...there was something about him that Jisoo couldn't put his finger on. A sort of savageness; Wonwoo had never said it explicitly - he had barely set it at all - but Bo Hyuk had something deeply unsettled inside him. Every six or eight months, he would just explode. Frustration and contempt and raw, vicious anger.

  
There was something amongst all of the Jeon men that made their seemingly perfect and rich and powerful system...fucked.

  
Seokmin had got really upset one day by a very hollow Wonwoo sitting out on the grass outside, smoking - just the once - one of Bo Hyuk's cigarettes. All it had taken was one, emotionaless phrase from Wonwoo, and it had made Seokmin crumble, and Hansol subdued; they had called the bi-racial man, hoping he might be able to help Wonwoo, who was sitting numb outside beneath the stars and the moon in the late springtime air. "He has no idea how proud I am of him, and how much of my life I have put around him and all we are; our business, our history, what it means to be us. Just by giving me a hug and having a three second epiphany, he thinks it's alright. Maybe little brother's right; I'm a retard and Dad's just another dumb cunt on the hill whose got a nice big bank balance."

  
 _Can your Dad fix washing machines?_ Jisoo asked, typing on his phone. He had tried just speaking, but Wonwoo didn't get it. _I haven't said anything to Seokmin yet but ours is leaking a bit of water out at the bottom._

  
"Yeah, that's bad. Ring up the place where you bought it from and you're welcome to use ours."

  
_Ours?_

  
"We've got a laundry in the apartment upstairs; I don't bother having a washing machine at my flat because I just use this one here - all the electricity and water usage gets put on the bills of the buildings, which Dad therefore claims back on tax, so it's a deal that way. You're welcome to use it."

  
Suddenly the penny dropped for Jisoo. _Is that why you've always got a box in the back seat of your mustang?_ he asked. Wonwoo chuckled, nodding.

  
_All this time I've been thinking it's baby transport service or something_

  
Wonwoo laughed more. It woke up the alsation, who mouthed his ankle. Jisoo was terrified for a moment, but Wonwoo scolded the dog gently and sat down cross legged on the floor. The dog rested his head on Wonwoo's thigh, and went back to snooze-land as Wonwoo stroked his ears. "You could put the baby you look after in there, I reckon. She'd have fun in there, right? When Bo Hyuk was little, I'd put the washing basket on top of him - he'd be crawling around on the floor, and we'd be pretending to be turtles or doing hide and seek and something." Wonwoo grinned. "And all you'd see is this box moving across the floor at 0.01 mile an hour; Bo Hyuk was crawling along underneath it and pushing it with his head. Mum and Dad were watching a film one night...and suddenly Dad goes, "That box is bloody moving!"."

  
Jisoo smiled too. _My Mum used to always say how I used to pull her washing out of the basket. She'd be halfway through the ironing, and I had crawled over to the basket and was wearing one of her bras like a hat,_ he typed up for Wonwoo. Wonwoo nearly had hysterics.

  
Suddenly, despite shame and regret for the couple of minutes earlier, Jisoo felt all that he had before. This growing, tender obsession for Wonwoo's skin...

  
 _Let's go home,_ Jisoo said, getting Wonwoo's head and picking him up off the floor, all the while extremely careful not to wake up what would be a very grumpy Alsation.

  
 _No, no,_ Jisoo said as Wonwoo pulled up at the south facing intersection. The southwards of the intersection led them back to Jisoo and Seokmin's place, and the westwards way of the intersection led them to Wonwoo's incredibly up-market - seven figure price tag - home. Even though Wonwoo called it the "flat" - everyone called it the "flat". Wonwoo's family, then because they did, so did Jisoo, Hansol and Seokmin - it was a house just as big as Jisoo and Seokmin's. Jisoo and Seokmin had bought the house they had was because it was huge, and it was cheap. It was the stage - about several months - before all the hipsters moved in, and suddenly everything was £400,000 dearer because it was full of gays, the mentally ill, the cannabis smoking, and the fantastically rich. And another thing; certain type of people lived in old gun cotton factories, munition structures, and government buildings that had been wonderfully renovated and transformed. They were people like Jisoo, Seokmin, and all the hipsters and artist folk that had come in in their luxury cars and...Jisoo and Seokmin had one neighbour who had tried to copy John Lennon's psychedelic Rolls Royce...on a BMW. Every-time Seokmin caught sight of this vehicle, he mimed throwing up.

  
That, and there home had been cheap because it was built like the labyrinth. Eight hallways, and two floors. 

  
Fuck. Off.

  
Wonwoo's house was a mix of Hansol and Jisoo'n'Seokmin's places; the open-planned modern Scandinavian style of Hansol's joint, but the same sort of aesthetic feel of Jisoo'n'Seokmin's place. Jisoo and Seokmin gave their house it's "Oomph" just by them living there, but Wonwoo's family had considerably interfered when he had moved in. His house was chock full of antique furniture - mostly European and English and welsh - plus he had pieces from his grandparents, and great-grandparents, houses that gave it a sort of homeliness. Some sort of sacredness.

  
 _Your place,_ Jisoo said. Wonwoo promptly did one of the most illegal u-turns in Seoul City Council road-rules book, and went back to the intersection, and then westwards.

  
And, then, suddenly again, it hit him.

  
He hated Wonwoo's guts.

  
For nearly no reason at all. Jisoo made Wonwoo pull up and he climbed out of the mustang, slamming the door with no explanation, and all the way he walked to a late-night tram-stop that had a station just down the street from where Cristina Dontraeovsky had studio spaces, he put his headphones into his ears and listened to her singing wild and pagan-like English songs in her devastating voice.

\--------------------

"Jisoo?" Seokmin repeated for the third time, worriedly. Jisoo had completely spaced out, and right now he was been absolutely terrifying, and completely unresponsive. His eyes were closed, and his mouth hadn't come open; he looked asleep, but Seokmin could tell he just wasn't. All of a sudden, Jisoo jerked sharply, rolling Seokmin's body still over the top of his. Seokmin thumped down onto the bed beside him, and they both looked at each other wide-eyed.

  
 _Sorry about that, I've got no idea what happened,_ Jisoo said to Seokmin.

  
 _Are you okay?_ Seomin checked.

  
 _Yeah, yeah. You?_ Jisoo checked in return.

  
 _Yeah._ Seokmin nodded.

  
They both looked at each other.

  
 _Goodnight, let's go to sleep._ Jisoo said briskly.

  
 _Yeah, that sound alright,_ Seokmin complied. 

  
Off the lights went, Seokmin and Jisoo tucked up beside each other without touching. A few minutes later, Seokmin put the lights back on.

  
 _Where does Cristina Dontraeovsky sleep when she's not here?_ He asked.

  
 _Shut up and go back to sleep,_ Jisoo rolled over and turned the lights back out. Seokmin this time cuddle up to him, and while Jisoo floated down to dreamscape, Seokmin kissed his mouth in the darkness, stroking the hair at the back of his head. 


	5. Chwe Hansol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo is getting peculiar dreams, he gets into a row with Cristina Dontraeovsky, Jangmi vomits on him, Seokmin and Jisoo diagnose that Jisoo's fucking around has been causing a problem, and history between Hansol and Jisoo is taken into deliberation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also for reference: if you see something like *rose*, or the baby referred to as either Rose or Jangmi - I'm not a fluent Korean speaker. So, when I was writing it, I decided to give the baby a very simple, pretty name, and I didn't have any internet access for a few days - the weather has been so hot that anything electrical gets buggered up - so I couldn't looked up the Korean term for "rose". And, even though I have done my best to edit it, there might be a few examples like that. I also forgot that she was referred to as Jangmi, and I just typed Rose instead. I only realized this about a quarter to one last night

_You know I love you right?_

  
Shit! Jisoo exclaimed, sitting up straight in his bed. He woke up Seokmin in the process; "Why sleep alone in my own bed when no one's here but you and Cristina Dontraeovsky isn't clogging up the space with her bubble-butt?" Seokmin had reasoned. Nothing about the existence of poor Jeonghan came into the matter at all. The voice had sounded like a mix of Wonwoo's, his Mother's, Cristina Dontraeovsky's, and Jeonghan's.

  
Pretty fucking disturbing.

  
And no matter what, it definitely just wasn't Seokmin who said it. 

  
The voice still echoed around in his head. This time, it sounded like Cristina Dontraeovsky.

  
_Don't think I won't empty that bloody tea-pot over your head!_

  
_Reverse, reverse! No other way you pillock!_

  
_CHAN!_

  
"Jisoo, what's going on?" Jisoo snapped back to reality, looking at a terrified Seokmin.

  
_Nothing, nothing, just a bad dream,_ Jisoo told him, trying to calm him down.

  
_Fuck, you're more of a couple with Seokmin than with Jeonghan you too-timing bitch!_ Cristina Dontraeovsky's voice accused him rudely.

  
_Get fucked!_ He responsed back to the memory and the dream of her. Another thing came to him. Why did he think of Cristina Dontraeovsky's name roaring for Chan?

  
_I'm sorry, it just happened,_ Jisoo tried more, but it seemed there was no getting out of it. Unintentionally, he had really fucked up. 

  
And he was continuing to fuck things up.

\-------------------

_You're such a gorgeous baby,_ Jisoo told Rose, putting her down for a sleep in her nest of pillows and lambs-wool blanket on the floor of the sitting room beneath the air conditioner. _Why you had to throw up on me this morning...well, it's better than Mum or Dad, I guess. Your Mum has some really pretty blouses, and your Dad had no time to get changed._

  
Jisoo took his shirt to the laundry and wondered how the hell he was going to get the vomit off it. He couldn't be wondering around covered in baby puke, but he couldn't be shirtless either. That was a breach of conduct, if there ever was one. 

  
He didn't bother asking Google. He just texted Cristina Dontraeovsky.

  
_Jangmi vomited all over me; she's feeling better and asleep now, but how do I fix my shirt?_

  
She responded fourteen minutes later.

  
_Burn it. There's not other way. Throw it to the pits of hell. Cast it to the devil to light with his farts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

  
Jisoo laughed. _Typical response,_ he thought.

  
_I had a really funny dream earlier. It was just you shouting stuff,_ he told her, typing away. _You shouted:_  
_⦁ Don't think I won't empty that bloody tea-pot over your head!_  
_⦁ Reverse, reverse! No other way you pillock!_  
_⦁ CHAN!_

  
It took her two and a half hours to respond to that.

  
Reckon I could work my way through that, she reasoned.

  
_Why are you talking like a English guy?_ Jisoo asked her.

  
_Piss off!_ She responded. Jisoo rolled his eyes. _Foul mouthed bitch,_ he thought. _No other girl I've ever known is like this._

  
_You're still doing it,_ He pointed out.

  
_Shut up, I've had James on the phone all morning; his mate was the one I punched. Anyway, for the first one that must be because you or someone else is been stupid over breakfast. The second one - either we're in a car, or a very tight space. Three, Chan is probably been a fuck_

  
For some reason Jisoo didn't want to think about and refused downright to give any attention to, that made him feel very strange inside, like someone was ringing out his stomach like a wash-cloth. Harder and harder they squeezed, the feeling becoming worse until he felt like been sick. James was probably a nice man; he'd have to be to contend with Cristina Dontraeovsky. All of Jisoo's body stung sharply. _I'm telling Hansol you called his friend a fuck,_ he said to her, just for something to reply.

  
_Don't you dare_. Cristina Dontraeovsky paused with her texts. She sent through another in quick succession. _Do what you want, I don't give a fuck_

  
_Yes, you do,_ Jisoo said.

  
_Look after that baby,_ even through the phone, Jisoo could sense the briskness. She had the shits now.

  
_Don't tell me how to look after kids,_ he told her.

  
_JESUS CHRIST! YOU'VE OFFICIALLY BECOME ONE OF THOSE CUNTS WHO SAYS, "DON'T TELL ME HOW THE RAISE MY/SOMEONE ELSE'S CHILDREN!"_

  
_Well, it's warranted at this point,_ Jisoo thought. They really were having a sensational row now, no doubt in the world about it. 

  
_FUCKER DUCK ARSEHOLE!_

  
_What the fuck...._ Jisoo thought to himself. Cristina Dontraeovsky was absolutely fucking mental. He just turned off his phone. He filled up the laundry sink with hot water and dissolved a bit of washing powder into the water, and put his shirt in to soak. He came back into the sitting room just as Jangmi began to cry; she had woken up, and was getting frustrated at not being able to sit up and crawl about due to her nest of pillows. Jisoo picked her up...she had a horrendously full nappy.

  
_So, the vomiting this morning wasn't the only part of your sick tummy, right?_ He thought to himself. He tried to kid himself they she had a big wee, but the smell was undeniable. He had had this once before, and, honestly, one could not believe the amount of shit that could come out of such a tiny person.

  
It was like a terribly organic Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory down there.

\-------------------

"Oh, that's disgusting!" Hansol said, wrinkling his nose in revolt even though he laughed. Jisoo had just finished telling him and Seokmin about Jangmi's horrendous nappy.

  
_When her Dad came home, I told him she had had a bit of a sick tummy. He looked at me like we just survive world war two and went, "Good job, mate", patting my shoulders, you know, in that really grave, adult way back in the 1940's?_ Jisoo added.

  
"Poor little girl." Seokmin said of Jangmi. Jisoo smiled at the memory of how Rose's Dad had swept her out of his arms, and sang to her, Jangmi cuddled against his chest and one hand groping Dad's nose while Dad held onto her other hand, like they were waltzing, "Jangmi, Jangmi, in her garden full of poesies, what a smelly little girl...you are!"

  
He was a great Dad, Jangmi's Dad.

  
_Hey, hey, what's the time?_ Jisoo asked.

  
_Uh, it's seven 'o' clock,_ Hansol checked on his phone.

  
_Oh, good, Jeonghan'll be home by now. Gotta go,_ Jisoo grabbed his jacket and navigated at the labyrinth of hallways to the front door.

  
As soon as he was well down the street past the house - Seokmin checking out of the window of the toilet upstairs - he went back downstairs to Hansol, and gave him the look.

  
"Shit, what's going on?" Hansol asked.

  
"Something's happened with Wonwoo and Jisoo - nine out of ten times Wonwoo causes it, but it's Jisoo this time, I'm sure. Look, anyway..." Seomin told Hansol over the course of twenty minutes about his ear, nose and doctor contact and the possible surgery for Jisoo, and how Wonwoo comes into it.

  
"But why do we need Wonwoo? Why can't you or I - or the two of us, if you'd like - just say to him about it?" Hansol asked, his brow furrowing. "And, Seokmin, you know Jisoo's probably had a look into all of this stuff before, right?"

  
"Yeah, yeah, I know, look, I do know he probably has, but - it was a few months ago - he just lost it. He was so angry and upset - it was a mix of everything right, and most of it was Cristina Dontraeovsky and Jeonghan's fault, anyway - and I just thought, "Something has to change."." Seokmin tried to explain.

  
Hansol's frown became deeper. "Like pre-Cristina Dontraeovsky bad or -"

  
"Pre-Cristina Dontraeovsky." Seokmin confirmed.

  
"Oh my God..." Hansol buried his head in his hands for a few moments. "He was that cut?"

  
"Yeah, and that's the thing." Seokmin sighed gently.

  
"What about Wonwoo though?"

  
"Something's definitely happened, but I just thought on the whole, Wonwoo would be better at all of this, you know, I mean, like...just, you know, telling him." Seokmin said. "He's got a nicer voice, anyway."

  
"Has Soo been fucking around again?" Hansol asked simply.

  
_Yes he fucking has and I'm tip-top of the list; absolute fucking whore of the year I am. Won the world championships just after Miley Cyrus -_ Seokmin shook his head, trying to retrieve his prattling brain from a holiday in Cyprus.

  
"You sure?" Hansol questioned, interpreting the head-shake as "No, Jisoo hasn't been fucking around".

  
"It's just, uh -" Words failed Seokmin. "It's difficult."

  
Hansol took one long and hard look at him. Seokmin quaked underneath it. Even though Hansol didn't seem it all of the time - well, most of the time - he had this depth and maturity...and he could see right through him.

  
Hansol didn't say anything, but Seokmin knew that Hansol knew. Now, to work on from that. 

  
But what he did come to say, he knew he shouldn't have.

  
"Don't act innocent; it's not like you've never not got with him." Seokmin said to Hansol.

  
"It's not like that." Hansol answered lowly. And, indeed, it hadn't been like that.

\----------------------

Hansol's gig at University involved a huge, nosy, and interefering class. Somehow, they all got along reasonably good even thought there was forty of them. The youngest student in the class - just gone nineteen - had organized a house part at a place he sared with four other people from the University. From the second that Hansol turned up with Jisoo - Wonwoo was in Japan with his Dad, Uncle and Brother, Seokmin was in Dae-jin City, which had left Jisoo stranded on his own - the set-up was absolutely fucking wild. Girl's bras decorated the 50's era hanging lights like a crude form of interior decoration. The lace swung a bit in the air each time the front door opened. It had been pouring rain all day, and then it had been blowing a gale - with hail the size of golf balls. Jisoo was laughing all the way in the car; all of his neighbours Porsche's and BMW's and Volkswagens had been smashed to bit. Six beers in, Hansol started to think; he was sitting at the bottom of the stairs while people were having sex upstairs, throwing up in the bathroom sink and loo, and dancing so hard on the second storey that it was shaking the whole house. Hansol sometimes wondered - and saw - how because Jisoo couldn't make sound, and therefore communication and language and particular signs, he used his body instead to show anger and love and gratitude and peace. Hands touched heads and shoulders, necks and hips for attention, interjections, arguments and pardons. Jisoo sometimes would lean into them to show agreement, and he smiled a lot, nodded a lot...gave the middle finger a lot. More recently, he had taken to kicking people in the ankle.

  
That was really funny to watch. Because Jisoo always successfully made out like it was one of the girls who had done it. Hansol knew the kick-in-the-ankle was Jisoo's way of saying "shut the fuck up" or "Piss off" or "stop it", but Hansol knew that Jisoo was inclined to extort his muteness disability to get away with sheer murder just about. And, that night, he was absolutely abusing it.

  
Lots of girls were clustered about him, and had been clustered about him all night; this perfect, silent gentleman. They giggled and talked and fucked about with their phones; harmless, sweet, and bright. Hansol glanced across the room a few times and saw how touched Jisoo was, just by this normality. A man talking to a woman...sorry, rather several women, but, nevertheless, just that naturalism of a guy talking to a girl...and that was all.

  
Seeing Jisoo's bliss immediately made Hansol feel twenty-times better about himself and about everything. It was like a epiphany. 

  
Horribly fucking music played. It was doing Hansol's head in. All it was was...noise. And it wasn't good noise; it wasn't wonderfully produced vocalization and discography.

  
It was shithouse.

  
_I got mistaken for girl with short hair twice_ , Jisoo said as he sat down on the stairs beside Hansol.

  
Hansol snorted a laugh. _Oh, Jisoo!_ He put his arm around the older man's shoulders. Jisoo wasn't impressed. T _hat sucks...oh, come on! It is funny_

  
_No, because it automatically mate eight guys think I was a butch lesbian and I've been getting the look for ages. You know - "Think you're the big alpha when you've got a vagina?"_ that sort of thing, Jisoo raised a eyebrow sarcastically

  
_Jisoo, they're university students._ Hansol reasoned. _They're fucking idiots. Don't worry about them_

  
_I'm not worrying about them, I just wish I could call one of them a cunt,_ Jisoo replied.

  
Hansol chuckled. _Leave that to me, I'll fuck them up in front of the professor_

  
_What are you actually wasting all this money and time there for?_ Jisoo inquired. Hansol sighed.

  
_Uh...economics?_ Hansol squinted.

  
_And what else?_ Jisoo pursued the question.

  
_Some interesting down-time on Kang Irene,_ Hansol grinned broadly.

  
Jisoo pulled a revolted expression. _I didn't mean that!_

  
_Well that is the that that you were asking about_ , Jisoo, Hansol answered. _You want to go somewhere else? Like...steal some beers from this idiot and drive somewhere in the car and just talk shit?_

  
Jisoo smiled. There's some white wine bottles in the fridge I would steal but I think they belong to one of the girls -

  
_Wait, wait...._ Hansol said. _You know who they belong to? Min-hee. Her families pretty classic; nice wines and that, not vodka shots off someone's nipples like the rest of us_

  
Jisoo burst out laughing, leaning back against the wall on the right side of the staircase, where Hansol leant against the thick wooden railing on the left.

  
_If I give her a kiss, do you think she'll mind if we make off with the wine?_

  
_Are you kidding me? It'll break her art. She didn't get her claws into you and her booze has gone missing. Nah, let's just get the beers and the lemonade_

  
_Why lemonade?_

  
Hansol winked. _You'll see_

  
They snuck into the kitchen and Hansol none so gracefully and completely obvious took a box of beer - a pack of thirty six - with Jisoo getting two bottles of lemonade out of the fridge, and they simply swanned out the front door with them. Everyone else was too busy vomiting, pissing, having sex, kissing, smoking - yep, the dope had offically made an entrance - and coughing a set of lungs onto the floor while trying to get to the "Dream Time", to notice Hansol and his mate Jisoo's going-on's. 

  
Jisoo's mouth fell open as Hansol selected a tidy second-hand black Mitsubuishi - about a 90's model - and popped the bonnet at the front, putting the stand into place.

  
_You see...when Wonwoo's Dad did a service on my Ford last month, he took me through a few basic things - putting water in the engine..._ Hansol said, all the while pouring lemonade into a entrance on the right side of the engine of the cars of a bloke called Han - who had been glaring at Jisoo the most. _And he also taught me about why you should always have clean oil in your car so it doesn't fuck the whole system..._ Hansol un-screwed a bottle of beer, and tipped a third of it down to another entrance for the engine's oil. Hansol put the caps and lids back on in the right places, and draped his arm over Jisoo's shoulder as they walked back up the dark and thoroughly bloody wet street to Hansol's Ford 2x2 ute.

  
_I would have put a banana in his fuel exhorst pipe, but I don't have a pair of gloves to cover up the fingerprints,_ Hansol said to Jisoo, turning the keys in the ignition of the Ford.

  
Jisoo buried his face in his hands, laughing his head off.

  
_That would have made the Japanese heap of shit thoroughly shit itself!_ Hansol exclaimed proudly to Jisoo, squeezing his knee before they pulled away from the curb, the box of beer and the now empty lemonade bottles on Jisoo's lap. About ten minutes down the road, they pulled up outside a lake with adjoined football grounds and a park, but Jisoo and Hansol didn't get out. 

  
_You didn't wear gloves either when you touched the caps on the engine,_ Jisoo told Hansol. All of a sudden, the younger man's face froze.

  
_Oh...shit a fucking brick,_ He said slowly. He looked at Jisoo. _Fuck me, man_

  
Jisoo hadn't intended to do it, but he really had put his foot in it this time. 

  
_No, no, no, Hansol, don't worry._ Jisoo touched his head and his shoulder in points - head, then shoulder - gazing at him, bringing Hansol's line of consciousness to a direct line to Jisoo's own. _Everything's fine. World world three won't start. Monkeys won't take over the world. Russia won't test nuclear missiles on the moon. We'll be ok_

  
Hansol nodded slowly, before flashing Jisoo a grin. _Yeah, of course, sorry, I was just being fuckin' stupid for a second_

  
_Hey, it's ok. We're fine,_ Jisoo said, getting Hansol back to a happy - if slightly drunk - state. Jisoo pressed the side of his middle and index fingers into a hold of Hansol's chin for a few moments, making the younger man smile a bit. Jisoo tapped the tip of his nose, making him look back at him.

  
_How will he react? Will he yell and scream or will he cry and ring his parents - what will he do?_ Jisoo asked.

  
_Yell and scream, call his parents and they'll tell him to call a tow truck and then he'll complain he can't do that, and on this will go for an hour,_ Hansol told him. Jisoo grinned.

  
_Not a big man then, is he?_

  
_Fuck all balls_

  
They both laughed. Jisoo shifted the box of beers and the lemonade bottles down onto the floor by the passenger seat, and he took off his seat-belt. He shifted over, leaning across the divider between the seats, his head on Hansol's thigh, gazing up at him. _Thank you so much for doing that, doeng-sang,_ Jisoo said to him. _That was so cool_

  
Hansol grinned. _No problem, Soo, everything's cool_

  
Jisoo's head tipped to the side slightly, more angled towards Hansol's crotch. Jisoo's eyes still looked up at his. _Do you just wanna head home? This idea of being out here sort of sucks. And you're getting tired. Do you want me to drive this?_

  
_No, hyung, I'm alright._ Hansol replied. _The driving on this is different from the Mazda; you can really explore the levels of grip with that thing, but this thing has no grip at all. You've got to over-steer just to steer this thing normally. And the fucking brakes will put you through the back windscreen. And the reversing sensors don't work. I learnt to reverse by looking at the back window, but you haven't. Thanks, Soo; if I go to sleep, wake me up when we get onto the noise strip_

  
Jisoo crudely clawed at the inside of Hansol's thigh, and it made his knee come up so high in a jumped movement from the touch that it hit the steering wheel. Jisoo looked down in amazement as Hansol ouched and aahed and swore.

  
The drive home to Jisoo'n'Seokmin's was silent, but it was a contented silence. Jisoo fiddled with them hem of the long-sleeved shirt, thinking to himself as it started to pour rain again, and Hansol navigated late-night traffic with nearly no traffic now it was raining, and windscreen wipers going at a hundred miles an hour.

  
Come inside, Jisoo said as they arrived at the address. He left the beer and the lemonade bottles in the Ford and hurriedly went to the front door, un-locking it so he and Hansol could get inside. For Hansol, this was one of the rare times he had been in Jisoo'n'Seokmin's without Seokmin been about. The whole atmosphere was different with just the sheer knowledge that Seokmin wasn't there.

  
They went to go in the loungeroom, but there was a note blue-tacked to the door from Seokmin.

  
LOOK IN THE FRIDGE

  
_What's this?_ Jisoo said to Hansol. Nevertheless, they navigated their way through the labyrinth to the kitchen, where another note was stuck on the fridge.

  
I WENT SHOPPING BEFORE I LEFT SO THERE'S EVERYTHING YOU MIGHT NEED

  
Jisoo grinned as he opened the fridge, and saw it packed full of stock, and then checked the pantry.

  
_Christ, he's bought enough stuff to feed an army!_ Jisoo exclaimed to Hansol. He was indescribably delighted that he wouldn't have to go to the supermarket and be...mute.

Thank. Fucking. God. For. Seokmin. And. His. Intelligence.

  
As they went into the dining room to go up another hallway which led to another to go to the second floor, Jisoo touched Hansol's shoulders and chest and suddenly he was too close...

  
The sensation of kissing a man was different; he didn't have to bend down or hold back. Jisoo's body, though thin, was taller, and there was nothing soft about it to touch or grope or hold onto. It was all skinny lines and sharp angles, a kind of flatness all around that was alligned. He smelled different; he didn't smell like a new celebrity brand toxin or flowers. He smelt clean, and fresh, but he smelt like a guy. Hansol had a even stranger thought circle down his head to his spine and chest, crotch and legs.

  
He felt like he was kissing himself.

  
All five of Jisoo's finger on his left hand pressing around Hansol's throat and the back of his neck, while the other hand had the middle and index fingers wrapped in one of the belt-loops of his jeans, keeping him in close for as long as Jisoo wanted.

  
Something occured to Hansol about why was he letting Jisoo just take control of him like this? All he needed to do was shove at his chest of just pull away from him. Jisoo wouldn't claw him or kick him or force him back in. But, nevertheless, he stayed there. Held under Jisoo's touch. 

  
Jisoo's hand went from his throat into Hansol's hair, and in a simultaneous movement he slipped his tongue into Hansol's mouth. It made them messy as Hansol hadn't been ready for the invading wet heat and the brutish taste of alcohol on Jisoo's breath. 

  
Hansol pulled away. They both stared at each other. Hansol wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist, conscious of how some of Jisoo's spit had got there.

  
"Jisoo -" Hansol caught at Jisoo's wrist even though the man was directly in front of him. "Don't just kiss me and then -"

  
"Then what?" Jisoo asked, his whole being completely nuetral, completely un-bothered by anything when Hansol's heartbeat was racing too, too fast.

  
_Don't tell him to back off; it'll just hurt him,_ a voice in the back of his head said. _Say it's your fault, you just can't do it. But don't say you can't be what he wants. That's just torture._

  
"I - I just can't...I'm sorry, I got to go." Hansol was aware that he was the one holding Jisoo, he the one making a fuss when Jisoo was simply just cool. There was no other way of saying it. 

  
He just ran. 

\-----------------

"So what do we do now?" Hansol commented to Seokmin.

  
"Wonwoo's not in the mood for talking to any of us." Seokmin laid back against the couch. "And now Jisoo's off with Jeonghan so let's just -"

  
"Leave it?" Hansol suggested, unenthusiastically.

  
"Well, we're goanna have to, aren't we?" Seokmin replied.

\----------------------

Wonwoo carefully helped his brother Bo Hyuk clean his split eyebrow and bloody nose, while the younger man's eye swelled black and purple and blue.

  
"Dad's really not goanna be happy." Wonwoo said aloud.

  
"I fucking know." Bo Hyuk answered muffled, holding a series of tissues to his nose.

  
"And it's definitely your girlfriends Dad who punched you?"

  
Bo Hyuk glared up at him. "You're not telling Dad my girl's Dad beat the shit out of me."

  
"Well, if we handle it by ourselves, Dad and Uncle will go nuts." Wonwoo crouched down in front of Bo Hyuk where he was sitting at a chair at Wonwoo's kitchen table. "You know what they're like. Accuse us of fucking about and disgracing the family name and reputation and hiding things like five year olds."

  
"Fucking cunts." Bo Hyuk said of them. "Why the fuck did this have to happen?"

  
"Stop swearing." Wonwoo told him. "And, yeah, why did this happen?"

  
"Because he's a -"

  
"With your girlfriend, not her Dad." Wonwoo cut in. Bo Hyuk sighed.

  
"We were out in the back garden having a drink together; she had invited me around to dinner one night with all the relatives, so you go, don't you? Anyway, she asked me what I thought about getting married - just, you know, in general. But her Father was fucking listening in - eavesdropping. Next thing I know he's got me by the throat, my feet are off the ground, everything suddenly hurts and my girl, her two sisters, and her Mum are screaming their heads off." Bo Hyuk explained.

  
"Oh, Jesus Christ." Wonwoo said, half under his breath.

  
"You're telling me." Bo Hyuk winced as Wonwoo put a covering over the split on his eyebrow. That cut was the one that really throbbed the most. "Have you ever wondered how Mum stays married to Dad? Fucking miracle, honestly..."

  
"Actually, I asked her that once." Wonwoo said. "She told me that Grandmother told her, "he's like his father who was like his father who was like his father". And that was that."

  
"She wouldn't leave him anyway; not way would he give her a divorce settlement." Bo Hyuk added archly. Wonwoo shushed.

  
"Come on, we don't need to talk about stuff like this now..."

\--------------------

When Jisoo called in at Seungcheol and Jeonghan's, Jeonghan wasn't in.

  
Jisoo couldn't tell that Seungcheol was lying to him when Seungcheol told him that Jeonghan had gone up to see his Mother because she was tearing her hair out about having a Uncle to look after with Alzheimer's.

  
After Jisoo had gone, Seungcheol went back upstairs and glared thunderously at Jeonghan, who was looking out of the window carefully in the sitting room at Jisoo as walked back up the street.

  
"You two are as bad as each other, you know?" Seungcheol snapped at him. "One minute he's kissing Russian women and fucking around, and then you push him away."

  
"I just can't see him right now."

  
"Why not?"

  
"I'm ashamed, alright?" Jeonghan turned to look at him sharply. Seungcheol immediately softened; never had he considered those three words to be Jeonghan's reply. Suddenly, he felt like an arsehole for having a go at Jeonghan when all along there had been...something else underlying.

  
"What happened?" Seungcheol asked Jeonghan.

  
"Nothing ever gets me high like this," Jeonghan getsured to the window after Jisoo's now long-gine figure. "But...just like...when we had sex the first time together, right...because Soo's mute, it's different, see? But what happened, I...I just fucked up with it. It was weird, because there was no sound, and I...I just feel stupid because Jisoo can't help it - no one can help it - and..." Jeonghan pushed his hair back from his face. "It's just...you know...I'm like this light-weight, but I'm not, but somehow with him I am and I know it, and it's just all complicated and messed up and I just don't think I can get it right because every-time I see him I decide, "This'll be it", and then it just gets fucked up...turned into a mess."

\---------------

The front door slammed.

  
"Is that Soo?" Hansol said.

  
"He's back quick." Seokmin spoke as well. Suddenly, a rise dawned on them.

  
"They've had a row." Hansol said.

  
"They've broken up." Seokmin said as well.

  
"For fuck's sake..." They both said together, whether the disaster be row or break-up.

  
They cannoned head-first into Cristina Dontraeovsky as they launched themselves in a run towards the front door. The first thing they noticed was that she was wearing a pair of high-heeled boots, jeans, and a dark red lace bra with no make-up on and her black hair going everywhere all around her body. That was all. "Piss off, piss off!" She shooed them out of the way like chickens in a farmyard as Jisoo ran up the stairs and she followed up behind him.

  
"Why are we getting told to piss off?" Seokmin said staunchly to Hansol. "What a dead-set bitch..."

  
"Why's she got no clothes on?" Hansol pointed out, far more importantly. Seokmin looked at him.

  
"Yeah, why's she got no clothes on?" He echoed.

\-----------------

"I'm so sorry, _dorogaya_ , I didn't realize it would make you so sick!" Cristina Dontraeovsky rubbed his back as he hurled his guts up into the loo.

  
She had dared him to eat sauerkraut after Russian beetroot soup. Huge mistake.

  
_I need to look after Jangmi tomorrow!_ Jisoo coughed and spluttered into the loo, and Cristina Dontraeovsky fetched some bog roll for him to wipe his mouth on. What came up from him - she got his head out the bowl and flushed it away. It looked even more disgusting before it had been ingested. If that was even possible.

  
"I know, I know, _dorogaya_ -"

  
_No, you don't! She's a mute baby, there's literally no one else who can look after her! Jesus Christ, why did I listen to you?_ Jisoo howled. Cristina Dontraeovsky winced. She knew she was up to her armpits in the shit with Jisoo.

  
_"Dorogaya -_ "

  
_Not tonight!_ Jisoo yelled, just as he started vomiting again.

  
She sighed heavily, and left him to it. As she opened the bathroom door she nearly caused a catastrophic accident with Seokmin and Hansol who had their ears pressed up to the wood.

  
"Why have you got no clothes on?" Hansol said to accusingly. She raised an eyebrow at him before slapping him very hard across the face. 

  
_"Der arme Junge wurde krank auf Vladimirs MamaSuppe Rezept und er chucked auf mich, Du schmutzige kleine halbe Kaste!"_ She snarled at him before getting off away.

  
Hansol looked at Seokmin. "Why the fuck did she just speak German to me?" He asked aloud.

  
_If I throw up anymore I'll have bullimia,_ Jisoo said as well, but no one saw or heard him.

\-----------------

Unbeknowest to Jisoo, Seungcheol and Jeonghan decided to make a plan. Seungcheol rang up Jisoo and told him that Jeonghan would be back in two days and was missing him.  
When Jisoo ended the call, he punched the wall and to his horror, he accidentally left a catastrophic hole in it. 

  
_Shit,_ he said, wrenching his fist out of the wall. He surveyed the damage, feeling worse with each millisecond that went by. _Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_

  
He had only punched the wall at this sudden anger of how Jeonghan had managed to call Seungcheol and everything, and he hadn't even dropped a single text to Jisoo.

  
Jisoo raced down and got Seokmin out of the living room. _I've done something really stupid, I'm so sorry,_ he said.

  
Seokmin stuffed a bit of bog roll in the hole and called up Hansol, who told them not to be idiots. "Take out the bog roll and use a sponge." He said. Seokmin and Jisoo looked at each other, and then rang up Wonwoo. He didn't pick the call, so Seokmin left him a message.

  
"Wonu-hyung, we've got a bit of a fucking problem. We've got a hole in the wall, call us back and stop ignoring us, yeah?" Seokmin asked of him, before hanging up with a sigh.  
What made you do that? he asked Jisoo. Jisoo shrugged inwardly.

  
_Soo?_ Seokmin poked his chest, then resting his hands on his hips. Jisoo came clean. Seokmin sighed again. He was doing a lot of that lately.

  
_Right, ok._ He said. _And you think they're lying because if Jeonghan did have a grandpa or an uncle or something with Alzheimer's he would have said, and then he actually would have said if he had to go out of Seoul?_

  
Jisoo nodded. Seokmin looked at him pitifully.

  
_Why can't you date nice guys and girls or something?_ Seokmin asked of Jisoo and of the air about them and of God and of Fate.

  
_Jeonghan and Cristina Dontraeovsky are nice,_ Jisoo implored. Seokmin scoffed so hard it nearly winded him. 


	6. Dal Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo gets into a fight with Wonwoo - their relationship getting more disasterous - so he packs his bag and escapes for the weekend, living a prank note for Seokmin and Cristina Dontraeovsky to have a fit over. While thinking just a trip by the seaside would give him a break, something else turns up in the form of nicely knitted jumpers and very pretty smiles...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing a new original character; Dal/Moon. Dal is literally the Korean word, and the reason why I picked a solid term rather than a name with meanings from a lunar or otherwise spiritualistic background is because where I got the idea to write it like this - a lot of people I know (probably quite crazily) have names like this in older-world countries like Wales where I'm from. The girls will often have names simply like Skye, Summer, Star, Moon, December - and they'll be named after Pagan Goddess's - like Arianrhod, Rhiannon/Rhianna, Cerri (from Cerriweden). Of course a lot of Welsh girls are called more "usual" names - like Sarah, Grace, Lily, Rose, Christina, Millie, Renae (these are more normal, more common girl names in the Western World). But I love the pagan ones, I just can't help it.

It was the second day of november before Wonwoo came back around to them. At that point it was shy under six weeks. Wonwoo wasn't like he usually was; over the course of the last few weeks, he had evolved into something like a thundercloud.

  
He came around and fixed the whole in the wall at Jisoo'n'Seokmin's, and did it without any kind words:

  
"Where's the hole?" Wonwoo had asked, carrying a few box full of kit.

  
"Upstairs -"

  
"Where upstairs? Be specific." Wonwoo had nearly barked going up the stairs with Seokmin trailing behind him.

  
"Soo's bedroom -"

  
"Don't come in an interfere, let me get the job done. It's nearly winter; the whole house could grow damp and leak due to exposure. Create a rodent problem."

  
"Why the fuck are you been so damn cold?!" Seokmin had hollered at him.

  
With everything that went on, downstairs Jisoo knew he had single-handedly caused world war three. He reflected on how most of their lives took place at the evening-time. As the sun set, the true nature of them all and their relationships came out.

  
For some reason, Cristina Dontraeovsky's voice played out in his head. _My byli dikimi i fluroestsentnymi, prikhodi domoy k moyemu serdtsu_

  
_V golove ya vse delaru pravil'no_

  
_V golove ya vse delaru pravil'no_

  
_And what in the name of arse have you done to Wonwoo?_ Her suddenly accused him of.

  
Seokmin stopped back downstairs. He took one look at Jisoo. "He's fixing the wall." Seokmin said shortly. "Can I use your car?" Jisoo went to protest, but he shook his head. He fetched them out of his pocket and touched Seokmin's neck. Suddenly, his better sense came to him. 

  
No, don't leave me alone with him, Jisoo begged after Seokmin, but Seokmin didn't see him and couldn't hear him at all.

  
An hour later, Wonwoo came downstairs. "It's been sealed so don't turn on the heating upstairs because it will wreck the job." Was the only thing he said before he too disappeared, not giving Jisoo a chance to try and talk to him. _Fuck this, fuck this, fuck this_ , Jisoo thought to himself. He raced down after Wonwoo. Wonwoo didn't look around or notice him, so Jisoo ran up to him and squarely hit him around the back of the head. Wonwoo dropped the box with a crash to the floor, and looked at Jisoo with such a vicious fury that the older man was scared by it, but he examined Wonwoo carefully. 

  
"Don't even talk to me." Wonwoo told him hardly.

  
Jisoo's mouth turned into a sad grimace. _Wonwoo, talk to me._ For all of it, no matter what, he wasn't going to apologise. He just couldn't do it. Why should we apologise for feelings that he just couldn't control?

  
Wonwoo looked at him coldly before turning around and picking the box back up. _Wonwoo!_ Jisoo pleaded, grabbing at his shoulders, trying to stop him, but his attempts were hopeless. Wonwoo nudged on the front door with his hip and put his box in the car. Jisoo - partly stupid and party improvising - dived into the passenger seat of the mustang.

Wonwoo rest a hand on the roof of the car and looked down at him through the open passenger window.

  
 _Talk to me,_ Jisoo said to him. Wonwoo's mouth pressed into a hard, thin line

  
"You're being a dick." Wonwoo answered.

  
 _So have you!_ Jisoo howled. Wonwoo glared at him harshly

  
 _Right, you tell me one thing._ Wonwoo jabbed a finger in his direction. _What's this Russian bitch doing with that bit she filmed of you and me dancing like idiots outside the art gallery?_

  
Jisoo looked at him in dismay. _Wonu, what's happened to you?_ Jisoo cried out. _You've had a completely fucking personality change. What's going on?_

  
"Get out the car before I drag you out." Wonwoo ordered. Jisoo stared at him in shock. "Now." Wonwoo's voice lowered to a growl, and Jisoo scrambled to as he was told as quick as he could.

  
 _As if I can't feel any worse,_ Jisoo and his aching heart thought bitterly.

\-------------------

Four weeks ago:

  
"Hey, Jisoo!" Jeonghan smiled relievedly, delighted to see Jisoo's face after the time they had been apart, opening the door to him. "I've only just got back, how have you been -"

  
You fucking liar, Jisoo told Jeonghan before punching him cleanly in the throat.

\------------------

Jisoo slammed the front door, now left alone inside he and Seokmin's house. 

  
Then there was the tracheotomy matter from last night.

  
Fucking hell.

\----------------

Seokmin sat down with Jisoo to talk about it with him with Hansol and Cristina Dontraeovsky present as well. Nearly the whole gang as it were. As Seokmin worked his way through it, shame and regret visibly spread throughout Jisoo's body, then his eyes flashed with barely held anger and sarcasm, and then he was subdued, but still in a foul-mood. When Seokmin finished - worriedly - Jisoo looked ready to punch something.

  
 _I can't do any of this you idiot,_ Jisoo told him through gritted teeth. 

  
_Don't speak like that,_ Hansol told him off. Seokmin looked as though Jisoo had slapped him. 

  
_Everyone shut up and hear him out,_ Cristina Dontraeovsky bit in.

  
 _As it is, my body builds up more tissue and possibly a cancer - which I get checked for every year - in my throat and all through by neck and mouth and chest, because my body is trying to fill up what is just empty space inside there. Any stent put in would be possible, yes, but would it would be implanted into would be another person's voicebox. what do they call that again when they give you someone else's body parts - transplant. For that to work I would still need someone's transplanted voicebox. And even then, the bit of flesh it is could be rejected by the hormones in my body and make me really sick, or it's a thing for cells to corrupt and become retarded or otherwise cancerous. The other way of doing it is making me like Stephan Hawking; cutting a whole into my throat with a bit of plastic like the lid of a milk bottle with this thing like a button battery. but it makes me sound like I'm dead. natural speech, but it's garbled and throaty and it sounds like I have a infection. you don't understand;_ _I've look at all of this. when I was a child my parents look at all of this - Peter Weiss had looked at all of this. he's the best paediatrician and mute specialist in Europe and then he came out to Asia and therefore he's now the best in Asia. it's not possibly without fucking me up in some other way. and - actually - one of these implant things. How's this for terrifying? in either Austria or Switzerland, a woman had this done to her. the fucking implant broke and speared shards of metal all throughout her throat, chest, heart and lungs. she died from a heart attack induced by the pain from the shards of metal piecing her and creating internal bleeding,_ Jisoo glared at them. _This is why...look, this is just why, ok?_

  
 _This doctor - my doctor I know - insists he can do it better,_ Seokmin implored.

  
 _No. He can't, Seokmin,_ Jisoo insisted firmly.

  
 _Why won't you at least try?_ Hansol asked. _Have some hope?_

  
Jisoo scoffed. H _ow thick are you? I'm mute; mute is mute. It's not something irreversible_

  
 _But it is!_ Cristina Dontraeovsky cut in. _Yours is caused because you were born too early; it's not a neurological disorder or caused by multiple sclerosis, the palsy syndromes, MND, failed surgery, any of this. it's not like everyone else_

  
 _I don't want to talk about this. I don't even want to know. I wish you hadn't brought it up - I absolutely fucking hate it._ Jisoo left the room and went upstairs to his own room where he then locked the door. All three of them tried to come up and talk to him, but he just ignored them, listening to music through his headphones until he went to sleep, freezing cold and hollow inside.

\-------------------

All of them held their breath, seeing what Jisoo's first word would be after the tracheotomy surgery, then first sentence; what his sound would sound like and what he himself would sound like. Jisoo visibly hesitated. he reached for his phone and typed on it.

  
 _I've got nowhere what to say,_ the screen read. Everyone laughed. They couldn't help it; laughter just came out of their mouths, and -

  
Everyone went silent.

  
Jisoo had laughed too.

  
He had made sound.

  
For the first time in his twenty-four years of life, he had made sound.

  
The first sound he had ever made was him laughing. Everyone promptly lost it.

  
Wonwoo, Hansol, and Seungcheol ushered around Seokmin as he helplessly cried, Cristina Dontraeovsky's black eyes sparkled heavily, Chan was utterly subdued, and Jeonghan gazed deeply at Jisoo, giving a happy and utterly heartbroken smile. Jisoo himself - chest didn't feel right either.

  
Everyone was upset.

  
Everyone was affected.

  
Everyone was touched.

  
Everyone was beautiful.

  
All at once he was there watching Cristia Dontraeovsky's film with the whole gang, and he was in the hospital bed watching the morning sunlight sparkle like it did through the trees in England come through the window of his room in the hospital, the day after he had had the incision made into his throat.

\----------------------

Jisoo woke up in tears from what had been a dream and what had been a total nightmare. It was five in the morning. Jisoo couldn't hear Seokmin snoring down the hall, but that didn't not mean he wasn't asleep. He didn't always snore. He inevitably fell into memories of the last time he had seen Jeonghan. They were sat at island bench together after Seungcheol had raced downstairs to rescue a very pained and breathless Jeonghan, who made Seungcheol run out in the street, grab Jisoo a hundred meters up the road, and drag him back to their address. Jisoo screamed and yelled and fought, and Seuncheol thanked the Gods that Jisoo was bloody mute.

  
 _The thing is..._ Jeonghan said slowly to him, a icepack held at his throat. _If I go, you accept it quietly. You let me go. Whereas, if Cristina goes, you're sad and you're dizzy and you're low. You can't do without her_

  
It had been Cristina Dontraeovsky, apparently. Jisoo had thought that Jeonghan wasn't bothered by their close relationship; he had no right to be bothered, in Jisoo's opinion. He had no idea about their history, and Jisoo had the perfect right to not give up any of his secrets. He told Jeonghan he would have to make do. But it seems that hadn't worked. 

  
_But she's a girl,_ Jisoo said. _And you're not. We're two men in a relationship, and therefore I treat you as a man whereas with Cristina Don - he tried to cut the habit of not adding in her last name, but it came out anyway. It had never been just Cristina. it was always Cristina Dontraeovsky, and if they wanted to call her something else, they invented something; Tits, Angie, Bitch, Dante, Prekrasnyy, Rampant Cow - it was how it worked. It's a man and a woman in a relationship, so therefore I treat her like a woman -_

  
 _No, that's not it._ Jeonghan shook his head. A tiny, and very sad smile came over his face. _She uses you like her toy, letting you go and ignoring you but then pulling you out of your dark box and using you. And for you, she's some sort of God with a russian accent and a pretty face; she's like a therapy. She's the love of your fucking life_

  
What had hurt so much was that most of what Jeonghan had said was true. And Jisoo hated and wondered at how obvious it must be for Jeonghan to see, or how blind and deaf everyone else must be to not sense it and see it like jeonghan could because no one had ever told him...any of it. That was a rule; a line in the ground. Jeonghan had known all the while that there were things he was never going to find out, and that was cool. Until everyone decided they were human and decided that wasn't right, and one simple order was broken. and now it came to this.

  
 _I don't want her like that!_ Jisoo exclaimed. _I don't want to have sex with her, or get married, or have kids - it's not like that!_

  
 _But it sort of is, right?_ Jeonghan mused.

  
Jisoo forced himself to get up and get into the shower and then get dressed. He had thick and oily black coffee with sugar in it, but he barely got that down. He just couldn't eat anything; stomach anything at all. When he arrived on time later at Jangmi and her parents place, he smiled and went about as normal - because he was normal - but he hated the way Mother's eyes looked at him. He knew that she knew something was up, but thank fucking Christ she didn't say anything.

  
She did kiss his cheek and give him a cuddle before she left for her job at the hotel, though. It made Jisoo feel bad; like he had done his nut and now she had been trying to placate him. He felt like a fat and disgusting child. He wouldn't have minded hanging himself that morning. By one 'o' clock, he could barely keep his eyes open as Jangmi cuddled into her nest of pillows and her favourite blanket with her toys while the radio played pop music in the kitchen and baby cartoons played on the television. In all honesty, Jisoo absolutely fucking hated the squeaky voices and the infantile digital concepts. As he laid down on the couch and his eyes inevitably slid to a close, he tried to listen into the pop music from the kitchen radio rather than the sounds of the television, and he tried to think that there was always someone else worse off than him.  
Not that it always felt like it. 

  
_As we flight like it's our last but then we get along...they don't get it and it's so funny._ He thought about himself and his relationships with Seokmin, Cristina Dontraeovsky, Jeonghan, Hansol and Wonwoo. _Right, like psycho. Psycho...fucking psycho._

  
Jisoo knew he was a fool, and he was a fool trying to hard, and he was a fool not giving a fuck about implications he foolishly caused.

  
And he shouldn't be going to sleep when he was looking after someone else's baby as well.

\--------------------

Yoon Jeonghan couldn't sleep in either the day or in the night.

  
 _You're a fucking idiot,_ a voice in the back of his head told him, _as had Seungcheol for the good first week after he and Jisoo had broken up. Why the hell would you let someone that gorgeous go? Of course there's the case about the Russian woman; all that stuff you said to him about her been his therapy and support - YES, SHE IS! Because he needs that support, he needs her! He just can't struggle along with you and his muteness, he needs his family and those who understand him to create that balance so nothing gets torn apart - those people are Cristina, Seokmin, Wonwoo and Hansol._

  
_This is all of your fault Congratu-fucking-lations, you total twat._

  
_Shit for brains, honestly._

  
_All you need to do is go around and see him. Ask him to take you back. Don't admit your fault. He knows this. Just be there. And even if he gets angry and kicks you, smile at him._

  
_Don't let him go._

\------------------

Jisoo reflected that there weren't many interesting places in Seoul; the whole city and it's pollution and it's toxic air and it's over-crowded population was doing his head in. He hated all of the sky-scrapers and the grey air not caused by beautiful rain but caused by petrol fumes. He hated seeing all of cities population living in impoverished shacks or white aspestos structures built in the 60's and the 70's, all incredibly communist inside; they weren't homes. They were roofs for being over the heads of millions, filthy and white and cheaply made. The people that lived in them never smiled. As they spilled out of the doors of those apartment blocks, wearing face masks and either bitter, tolerant, and dreaming expressions, trudging to a job they hated, and as they were on the train or the bus or a cab or walking to their day of work, they were locked into their phones. All of their senses attributed to seeing a blog that held a dream; beautiful food, photography, landscapes, spirituality, idealogy, philosophy. A communication was also a dreamscape; something to hide away in and find pleasure in, because the reality was so stark and bland and irritating, like the white aspestos homes they lived in. 

  
As Jisoo drove out of the city, he breathed in black and white colours and fumes for nearly twelve kilometers before he was out of the city southwards.

  
He felt like the sea.

\-------------------

Cristina Dontraeovsky swanned through the front door of their house just as Seokmin made to call her.

  
"What have you said to him!" He rushed out into the main hall and yelled. Cristina Dontraeovsky wasn't at all concerned about his outburst.

  
"Darling, calm down, what is it?" She asked him gently. Seokmin had a fit in his own right over her stunningly fantastic behaviour rather than what he think her usual response would be of, "GET FUCKED!"

Seokmin shoved the note that Jisoo had left on the dining room table at her. She read it.

  
_I WAS SICK OF SEOUL AND JUST BEEN DOWN THE ROAD FROM JEONGHAN'N'SEUNCHEOL. CRISTINA DONTRAEOVSKY ALWAYS SAID ST. PETERSBURG HAD NICE ARCHITECTURE. I FELT LIKE A HOLIDAY_

  
_BE BACK IN A COUPLE OF WEEKS_

  
_JISOO_

  
_(DON'T WORRY ABOUT PETER WEISS RINGING UP, I'VE ORGANIZED ALL THE DETAILS WITH HIM ABOUT JANGMI AND HER FAMILY)_

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky looked at him. "Please tell me you've got the plonk in?" She asked weakly.

\-----------------

Jisoo had timed it perfectly. From the start of Novemeber - due to the beginning of the Christmas period and the end of the year - more management staff came into work so Jangmi's Dad was only required at the office for...two days out of the five day working week. Any forms, paperowkr, and logistics he could do from home. And ever since her brilliant handling of the flooded lobby and the handling of the media attention, Jangmi's Mum had been given a promotion to being on the board of directors. She was also only required to put in three or four hours now at the hotel every two days or so, and the rest she could do from home via her laptop and the phone.

  
Jisoo drove five hours towards Busan, and decided he wasn't going to book something as mundane as a hotel or a B&B he planned for the freedom to just sleep in a secluded, hidden part of the beach, of just fold down the back seats of his car. Why waste money on a matter that was crap, sub-grade cooked food, a mattress stained with urine and sex residue, sheets that were been washed with the wrong fabric softener so they were itchy and hard, and risk having your phone and keys stolen by dodgy maids?

  
No bloody way.

  
He chuckled to himself. Yes, it was the late autumn, nearly the winter. Should this really be his plan?

  
In all honesty, he didn't care. Even it was madness, he reveled into the ideological alternative of it. He could do what he bloody well wanted; no one telling him he should do this, no one telling him he should do that.

  
He was his own man; and if he wanted to be a bit stupid, well, he bloody well would be.

  
Jisoo preferred to come down to the coastal regions and towns and villages at the colder time of year; gone were all the tourists from Seoul and the other cities on holiday and package deals for travelers from China, Japan, Russia, Australia and Malaysia. Jisoo liked seeing the realism, the simply local life. How a community of elderly braved a dawn swim in freezing cold water, relieving them of their arthirtis and headaches and work-strained backs, giving them a sort of high that made them happier, more content in life, even if it was the beginning of an end for them through cancers or diabetes or things that Jisoo found more frightening; dementia and alzheimer's and parkinson's disease. The mums with their friends jogging along the beach, and young married couples rugged up with scarves and puffer jackets walking dogs along the shoreline. The teenagers who wandered down the queyside in usually just a thin long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans, hair greasy with pale, pallid skin and a heartbroken aura, smoking skinny, homemade cigarettes that were as skinny as they were, or as skinny as they wished to be. 

  
This was all he saw in just one day; from dawn until dusk. He thought it was cool; he thought it was beautiful. He wished he could save it as a memory, and then upload that memory to a computer. Make a instagram post out of it, make something just as cool and beautiful. No cameras could capture what it was to witness it as a human being with your eyes. Jisoo didn't have the talent to try and re-create it with a digital lens anyhow. He had never been really good at taking photos; he couldn't paint either. He was terrible at that. Cristina Dontraeovsky had taught him to paint - incredibly patiently and gentle-humored - but he didn't have the talent.

  
As the sun set, he parked his car in the centre of the town, and walked about, looking for a restaurant or a shop to get something to eat. 

  
The only trouble was that everything seemed to shut at about half four. Jisoo walked back through the town to where his car was parked at the beach...to find it surrounded by cars also parked. He saw young children racing apart, pretending they were smoking as their exhaled breaths turned to mist in the cold air, and couples of all ages walked along the tarmac road strewn with sand to a huge early 2000's architecture building that was about the size of a well-attented Church at the end of the beach, about a hundred meters up the road. Jisoo had assumed it vacant, but it seems that it was a night-hours establishment. Jisoo grinned broadly to himself as two teenagers walked up in front of him; the boy was in nice clothes. A good denim jacket, a clean shirt, a beanie, good jeans, good shoes. Expensive converse brand sneakers; the actual brain. The girl beside him had dark, swarthy skin with thick eyebrows, spots, brilliantly alive eyes and a tiny smile in a red and black striped long-sleeved top with leather patched elbows, ripped up boyfriends jeans, and very, very dirty NIKE sneakers with a dog that resembled a black toilet brush keeping heel at her side without a lead. Very tentatively, her fingertips touched his hand. Jisoo heard he intake of breath - a gasp of surprise - as he held her hand, and turned his head and smiled at her with such a brilliance that Jisoo couldn't understand exactly how she felt.

  
Sunshine on the soul; the beginning of a piano symphony; the winter dawn and the winter dusk

  
_This guy loves me._

  
Jisoo dodged around them, not making obvious how secretly he had been gazing at him; for a moment, he heard words that he spoke to her.

  
"You know you've got a face straight outta a magazine or a movie screen, you know." He told her.

  
Jisoo glanced back, unseen by the teenagers, to see the girl's eyes sparkle with huge tears, and her mouth curve both up and down from her emotion.

  
They love each other so much, he thought to himself, the sight he had just witnessed putting a indescribably bounce in his step.

  
This place that the whole town seemed to be flocking too was like a hall/restaurant/pub/theatre all in one. A live band was playing music in a stage, all the adults were milling about inside the building in the warmth, all of the teens and early-twenty-something's were hanging on the peir with beers and cigarettes and their phones out, and up on the second storey which was accessible via a stairwell and one of the coolest staircases Jisoo had ever seen - it was a floating staircase that went up in a spiral but was five feet wide all the way around - where the couples with children were in rooms and spaces that went off from the second-floor landing. Along the south side of the second floor and the first floor was floor-to-ceiling windows, which gave spectacular views out onto the cliffs and the sea. It was something that caught Jisoo's attention, and blissfully burned the memory of itself onto the surface of his brain. The bar was one long half-moon shaped piece of timber that arched around the huge space, polished and cleaned to a high shine so the hanging, Scandinavian style lights throughout the space glinted a reflection against the surfaces. Pot-plants and wine-bottles with candles - alight - stuck into their necks decorated the wood along with beer mats and a huge ceramic bowl full of champagne corks. Jisoo noticed how women abandoned their handbags with the easy, safe knowledge that no one was going to rifle through the contents or pinch the accessory entirely.

  
"Hello, chicken, can I get you anything?" Jisoo turned around - having been leaning against the bar, a tiny bit of space amongst all the town locals and strangers - to see a very pretty tapered middle-aged face of a woman with curly black hair loosely pinned up to a knot at the back of her head with a tortoise-shell claw-comb keeping it all in place. She had on a pretty dark blue wool dress and a denim apron. Jisoo thought fast.

  
 _Just a bottle of soju, please._ He asked. The woman tutted sympathetically.

  
"Oh, lost your voice love?" She squeezed his elbow across the bar. "Lot's of colds get around this time of year; having a swim in the sea might help you. Ocean water does wonders; it's why there's so many healthy elderly here." She chuckled a laugh.

  
Jisoo nodded, pretending that was the case. Yes, indeed, he had lost his voice. And few minutes later, his drink was served, along with a bottle of pills. 

  
"That's the doctor over there, the middle-aged woman pointed across the huge space to a old man in a tweed jacket. "I told him there was a boy with a bad throat, and if you take them, they'll see you right, love." The motherly-natured woman winked kindly and asked him if there was anything else he needed.

  
 _No, thank you,_ he mouthed, sub-conciously touching the hollow of his throat. She smiled broadly as though she was the happiest woman in the world, and went off to the other side of the serving bar where a couple of men in their early thirties that Jisoo would guess as being real estate agents were waving a drinks menu and calling her to attention by saying "sweetheart!". Jisoo eyed the bottle of pills, and read the labels on the back. That was more than a bit unorthodox; those pills were on the prescription register. Why was a doctor just carrying them about in his coat pocket? Jisoo figured it must be the countryside culture; nowhere else bar the rural landscape would you find communities like this with serving ladies like that one in the denim apron and inconcipuous doctors who handed like prescription tablets as easily as lollies.

  
"You're a new face, honey!" Jisoo looked around to see a...oh fucking hell, she was gorgeous. This girl was tall with peroxide-blonde hair that fell down around her body, huge black eyes with pretty British grunge/classicism style make-up, a long denim skirt with a uneven and un-hemmed edge, purposely frayed and battered, burgundy suede high-heeled boots, a hand-knitted oatmeal colour tunic dress that hugged her toned thin figure nicely, with a rose-gold watch, a diamond ring on her index finger, and immaculate teeth that hadn't been cosmetically whitened.

  
 _Hey,_ Jisoo found himself saying. She smiled in a way that had him floored. She was as bubbly and has handsome and as warm as the woman who had served him at the bar.  
"My name is Moon (Dal)," She said. "But I get called Moon, you know, in English, because that's the translation and all of that. But I'm treating you like you're dumb, sorry; you're not dumb at all." she smiled sweetly.

  
Jisoo laughed, slightly incredulous. Dal - Moon - gazed at him, her lips coming apart as she tried to work out what is was about him. Despite this, Jisoo decided to think of her as Dal Moon, like he thought of Cristina Dontraeovsky as Cristina Dontraeovsky. He decided also he was going to call her either Dal or Moon. He was also definitely getting her number even if she decided he was a freak and dumped him at any point from five minutes to the next morning when she had reviewed her case after a good night's sleep. He pulled out the now getting a bit battered piece of paper out of his pocket, and showed it to her.

  
 _Sorry, I'm mute,_ as she read, Jisoo gestured to his throat. Moon visibly imploded.

  
"I'm so sorry!" Her hands came up to her mouth, his piece of paper still in his hands. "I - oh, God, I've made an idiot of myself, haven't I?"

  
Jisoo pulled out his phone and typed in the notes app, _No you haven't. You're so sweet._

  
Moon's mouth curved up into a beautiful, shy, relieved smile as her eyes glowed tenderly. Jisoo found himself falling for her by the second. He took his phone back.

  
 _I'm Jisoo, by the way. You live here, right? I came down for a bit of a holiday; still finding my way around_ , he typed. She read it again. She laughed.

  
"It's a small town; everyone knows each other. Plus everything about each other." Moon rolled her eyes and groaned. Jisoo grinned. "Have you been to the bakery? They do nice coffee there, and nice breakfasts; good price too. It's a family bakery, not a hipster one. A coffee here is £2.50, whereas apparently in the cities it's like £5.95. Rip-off merchants."

  
 _I haven't yet; I'll try it. You live here right? It's a nice place_. He told her.

  
"Oh, yeah, me and all my lot were born down by the sea, here." She replied. "Did you come from Seoul? Your literally like Seoul."

  
Jisoo nodded. Do I seem strange? Like, I don't know...city boy idiot or something? He asked. Moon giggled, uncapping his bottle of soju and taking a sip from it. 

  
"No, you don't, don't worry." Moon blinked rapidly, before ducking ehr face into her elbow. A few minutes later, she looked back at him, wide eyed. "God, I hate it when that happens; you think you have a sneeze coming up, and then you don't, then you do. And while you're trying to have some manners and you're all clogged up with wet eyes, everyone thinks you're a nutter." She said.

  
Jisoo decided he loved her. Moon giggled again. "If you think that is strange I have four sisters;" She told him. "Yeoleum, Haneul, Byeol and Meoli."

  
 _Literally, Summer, Skye, Star and Coco?_ Jisoo asked. Moon nodded enthusiastically.

  
 _Wow,_ Jisoo mouthed.

  
"Oh!" Moon excliamed. "I love it when the boys -" She jutted a thumb over her shoulder to the live band playing. "Play this song. It's called "Sincerity Is Scary"; some English cover, but that's fine, right? Wanna dance?" She got hold of his hands; her hands were tiny and soft and they smelt like hand-cream; lavender.

  
 _God yeah,_ Jisoo told her, leaving his phone on the bar by the soju, and didn't notice as it started to vibrate with a call from Seokmin.

\---------------

"You're so cool!" Moon told him. They were sitting out on the dark on the cold sand of the beach with a few more bottles of soju, a warm ornage glow basking across through the air from the pub/hall/club/whatever it collectively was, and from the bulbs of fey lights strung across the peir and queyside where teenagers snogged and groped like there was no tomorrow, and Moon kept pointing out couples and mimed throwing up.

  
Jisoo felt like he did when he first met Cristina Dontraeovsky - wait, no, no he didn't. When he met her he was just a miserable bastard that begrudgingly got used to her invading his life, and then he got obsessed with her. That was how that had worked. 

  
With Moon, it was more sweet, it was more human. It was utterly bloody lovely. There was no other way of putting it.

  
"And there's this other guy who lives here, right? He's a sheep farmer, and every-time on a nice rainy day when his truck drives through town, everyone nearly dies because there's nothing worse than the smell of wet sheep, and wet sheep with wet sheep poo." Moon broke off, laughing her head off and simultaneously her face carried a revolted expression.

  
 _That's disgusting,_ Jisoo told her. She wasn't having too tough a time lip-reading him. He was amazed by that. He was made so happy by that.

  
 _What's your favourite film soundtrack?_ he asked her. 

  
"My favourite film?" She echoed.

  
 _Favourite music from film,_ he tried a simpler version of the question. That time around, Moon got it.

  
"I love the music from "The Theory Of Everything". It's got Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones in it; I don't know if you know them or the movie or not?" Moon explained. "But, anyway, the music was made by this French guy called Alexandre Desplat, who also did - sorry, sorry, I tell a lie. I was going to say that Alexandre Desplat did the music for "The Theory Of Everything" as he did "The Danish Girl". But Alexandre Desplat only made the music for "The Danish Girl" not "The Theory of Everything". Sorry, I'm been confusing now. "The Danish Girl" is about the life and love and marriage - the concept and character study, right - of Gerda Wegener and her husband/wife Einar Wegener/Lily Elbe, who was the first person in the world to have that transgender surgery - you know where they change all their bits and bobs around? Yeah, sorry, yeah, yeah - gender reassignment surgery." Moon snapped her fingers, getting through the memory block to the right terminology. "It's a beautiful movie; and it's got Benedict Schoenearts in it - oh!" She smiled happily. "That man is gorgeous. I think he's Banksy?"

  
Banksy? Jisoo echoed. Moon nodded simply.

  
"I just have this feeling that Matthias Schoenearts is Banksy."

  
 _Is this a relation to Benedict? Matthias?_ Jisoo checked. Moon went blank for a moment, then burst out laughing. Jisoo had gone to repeat his question more slowly, but he stopped himself.

  
"You can tell I'm getting drunk!" She buried her face in her hands. "I said the wrong name. It's Matthias Schoenearts; don't know where I got Benedict from. I'm so sorry, I'm getting everything mixed up on myself tonight." She looked at him accusingly. "It's all your fault, you're so handsome." Her lips curved up in a smile. She thought for a moment. "One of the loveliest pieces of the composition is the 27:22 mark in the official soundtrack. It's just beautiful."

  
 _I'll give it a listen,_ Jisoo promised her.

  
"Can I ask you where you're staying?" She asked. "So I can see you again in the morning? If you'd like me to come about again?"

  
 _I don't have anywhere to stay_ , Jisoo said. _I'm sleeping in my car. I only came down this morning_

  
"You can't sleep in your car!" She yelped. "You'll freeze." She stood up, and brushed sand off her bottom, and asked Jisoo if she was clean. He nodded. "You'd better come home with me, then. You can't be a corpse like one of those frozen supermarket meals in the back seats." She held out a hand to him, and he stood up, taking hold of it. Jisoo reflected that all of Moon smelt like lavender.

  
He didn't mind at all; not one single bit.


	7. I Can't Remember Where We Met But I Know You Didn't Have A Top On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo comes home to Seoul, Seokmin and Hansol realize they've been too-timed between revelations from Wonwoo and Critsina Dontraeovsky. Jisoo dumps Jeonghan indefinitely (?), shacks up with Moon, while Wonwoo and Jeonghan try to figure out his niche, and Wonwoo comes up with a heartbreak cure that involves a turbocharged Bentley and a good race track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been calling the chapters by names now, but each chapter is so involved that I've had to break the tradition.
> 
> For those of you who read this chapter can you tell me what you think about Wonwoo driving the Bentley? I've written into the work about Wonwoo working for his Dad, Uncle and before he passed away, Grandfather, in their four generation aircraft and motor parts museum and business with his brother Bo Hyuk. Just for reference, Wonwoo does have a little brother in real life, and his name genuinely is Bo Hyuk. And - even though I'm a woman - I absolutely love, love, love motor racing.
> 
> British cars only though. But everything has been brought up by the bloody Krauts, hasn't it? BMW bought Mini, Audi bought Aston Martin - or did Lamborghini buy Aston Martin? Anyway, it's not the same. I saw a Jaguar at the traffic lights the other day, and it was the spitting image of a Hyundai directly behind me. The classic appeal is gone. Just....absolutely gone.
> 
> For reference, as well, Bentley do have a motor racing team; they - no kidding! - won the 2020 Bathurst 12-hour race in Australia! For the last couple of years they have been second of third place, but this year - THE BRITS WON IT! HA-HA!!!
> 
> That's my influence by the way; from the time I was eleven, I would drive my motorcycle up through the mountains and the forests in Conwy with no proper registration or license; just me, my helmet, my leathers, free. There's this adrenaline that floods your whole body; you're alive and you're indescribably wholesome, and you're free. This surrender fills you up, and you can live or die. 
> 
> It's completely extraordinary, because you understand this entirely. You can die. There's such a freedom in this understanding. If you fuck up, it's over. And this dawn is so blissful and it doesn't hurt; it doesn't make your heart race or your vision blur. It's an epiphany, and you exist within the okiyo, the middle air.   
> You're completely human, because, essentially, you're sacrificing all that is human. 

Moon had really nice boobs. No doubt about it in the world. For one, they were real. They hung naturally, and went a bit south, and they weren't at all like these muscled, implant filled ones that filled out celebrities dresses and flooded Instagram. A record single by LAUV played in her bedroom on the second floor of her home. Moon had apologised as she snuck Jisoo in through the back-door. She was still at home with her sisters, Mum, Grandmother, her Grandmother's husband Jim, her Mum's partner, Wonpil, and currently no guests. Her family ran a "experience hotel". Cooking, hiking, sailing, swimming, history tours, and culture; that was what they made money out of in the tourist season. Moon was sitting up in the bed, naked, with the sheets in a tangled nest over her lap with one of her legs poking out from beneath the covers. Her big toe delicately touched the wooden floor, and downstairs Jisoo could hear the rest of her family waking up. 

  
She smiled down at him gently; winter opaline sunlight, silver and luminescent, came down through the huge windows of the bedroom, which was old and 1930's in style inside. When her parents had built the structure, they wanted something quirky and cosy and British, lots of character and history, even if it was a bit recent. Her Dad was dead. Moon hadn't told him, but on her bedside table was a black ceramic urn with gold birds etched onto it, and in front of the urn stood a photograph of a ruggedly handsome man with curling black hair and lines etched into his face, with two candles either side of the silver frame. On her other bedside table was her jewelry box, a tiny chest of draws, a tube of hand-cream, a bottle of incense oil, and a rose-gold piece of cream quartz stone with a photograph of a young girl in a pink ballet costume.

  
"That's my youngest sister, Meoli." She said, noticing Jisoo looking. "Coco - Meoli - whatever name you like. We all call her Coco; if she's in trouble, she's Meoli. At school, she's Meoli. She loved ballet when she was little; but as she grew up she loved animals more. When she was eleven she tried to teach the ducks that live in the pond in the garden how to do plie's."

  
Jisoo laughed. _How old is she now?_

  
"Eleven and a quarter." Moon replied. "By the way, if I say get in the wardrobe, as in right now, get in the wardrobe - I'm serious - I'll get you out eventually and not have you die. Go, go!" She shooed him. "My girls are coming up!"

  
Jisoo barely had a chance to breathe before he and all his clothes were shoved into a antique wardrobe, and Moon had the chance to pull on a black linen dressing gown just as someone burst into the room with a huge squeal. 

  
"DALLIE!"

  
"Hey, bubba!" Moon groaned happily. "Oof, little girl, you're getting heavy! Eating lots of vegetables and lamb; you're getting strong! Keep up the good work, honey; throw it in the face of skinny kpop bitches."

  
The other person in the room laughed. "Been skinny sucks. You have to get all of all your clothes re-sewn and wear belts all of the time." A young girl's voice said. Jisoo thought this to be Coco - Meoli. "Why be skinny when you can have curves and be sexy like a Disney princess? My friend's little sister watched that new film - Moana, she's a Maori New Zealand girl - at the house here the other day when you were out at the beach. Her figure is so nice - I want her figure!"

  
Jisoo smiled to himself while Moon laughed. "You're lovely, darling. Is Nannie awake yet?"

  
"No, her and Grandpa Jim were watching the election last night and got overtired from abusing politicians." Jisoo practically heard Coco - Meoli - roll her eyes. He laughed, and for once he actually didn't mind that it was silent.

  
"Remember, if you make them tea again, it's the lactose-free milk for Jim otherwise he vomits in the hydrangeas when he goes for his morning walk and gets stirred up."

  
Coco groaned. "I'M NOT A BABY!" She howled.

  
"Are the girls in the bathroom?" She asked. Coco must have shook her head, because Moon hummed. 

  
A few minutes later, Moon opened up the doors of the wardrobe, and smiled brilliantly. "Want to get in the bath with me?" She asked. 

\------------------

Jisoo flicked soapy water in her face, and Moon's expression wrinkled; she seized a sea-sponge cut into a spheric shape and hit him with it. 

  
What's this song? He asked her.

  
"Me & You Together Song" by The 1975." She told him. Jisoo didn't mind the fact that the song was playing on loop; he liked the beat and the British aesthetic of the sound. It felt so distinctly like the hum-and-drum of youth in Manchester; not actual youth - what is the Instagram vogue and so on. It just felt like being young and going about your life in that environment.

  
He loved the first line. 

  
_I can't remember where we met but I know you didn't have a top on_

  
Only a Brit could get away with a line like that. Any kpop boy or girl or otherwise group would be dragged through the shit. 

  
As the song played over at the start, Moon climbed dripping wet and beautifully naked out of the bath and swung around dancing flecks of water coming from her skin and hair and hitting the walls. Jisoo chucked the sponge she had hit him with earlier and it smacked her directly in the arse. Moon had a normal looking bum; it wasn't a Hollywood celebrity bubble shape; it was square and flat, but when she turned on her side, there was a beautiful round shape with a nice amount to pinch or grope.

  
Which he had done so.

  
Jisoo liked everything about Moon; the natural structure of her body, and he didn't mind her long dyed blonde hair. He thought that just looked cool; everything about her style suited her. She was a dream come true, every piece of her.

  
I'll have to sneak you out the back door, Moon said silently. _Can you lip-read? You can understand me, right?_

  
Jisoo nodded. Moon smiled relievedly.

  
_I'll sneak you out the back door but I'll get your some breakfast first; my Mum's a good cook, don't worry about getting poisoned. That thing with Jim earlier - Jim is Nanna's new husband. The other one died in 1985 from a respiratory disease. She's been married to Jim for five years now, but he has an allergy to milk and dairy; which is a mess for the poor guy when someone forgets to tell him to not eat or drink something in particular because it's got the offending substance,_ she explained to him. She opened the bathroom door and they quickly ran back down the hall to her bedroom, stark naked. Jisoo got his clothes from the previous night back on - now slightly sandy in the jeans department - and Moon pulled on a white turtleneck with a long black denim skirt, grey woollen tights, and her burgundy leather boots. Come on! She gestured over to him, and snuck him downstairs...where he promptly got hidden away into a broom cupboard beneath the stairs of the family's private quarters. A few minutes later Moon came back with eggs, bread, two sausages in a tupperware container, and a coffee in a keep-mug. 

  
The previous night Moon had nipped back into the hall/restaurant/venue and had came out with a candle in a old jam jar; a sort of make-shift lantern. She and Jisoo had walked home about four kilometers in the dark with that light held out, and it was just cool. Now, they walked back down to the beach, where Jisoo's car was still parked by the sea.  
Jisoo was relieved to see that his car was still there. He had expected to be walking down happily with Moon through the town...to see his car graffitied or damaged or otherwise towed away. But, it was jus thre, un-damaged, un-touched. Something else occured to Jisoo. He had left his phone in the building last night. He told Moon.

  
_When it opens up tonight we'll go and find it,_ Moon said. She gazed at him, side-on. _It's more comfortable for you, right?_ She mused. _When I speak silently?_

  
Jisoo nodded.

  
_How cool is this?_ Moon ducked, spinning around on her heels, her hands clasped together at her back, one hand holding her other wrist, smiling blissfully.

\-----------------

Jisoo spent a week running about with Moon. She had three jobs; one of them was babysitting the neighbours toddlers - that thrilled Jisoo to no end that she did the same sort of thing a she did, and whenever she was doing the day-care for the working parents, she snuck him into the house where they chilled out on the couches and played DVD's for the little ones - the other was doing gardnening and landscaping work for the elderly of the towns, and she also did waitressing for one of the "artisan coffee houses". Moon rolled her eyes very heavily at that.

  
_There's too many places like that,_ She groaned. _And they always say dumb things, like_ \- Moon did a brilliant impression of a European Toff. _"We support local artists". And you can tell this Jisoo, because the art on the walls is shit!_

  
Jisoo burst out laughing at that. _But because they rip people off so much, I can get good enough money for working a few hours._

  
_No way, you can go in by yourself,_ he told Moon as she tried to get him come swimming into the sea with her.

  
No! She exclaimed. Come on, it's good for the soul - she grabbed his hands and tried to pull him in, but he dug his heels into the sand and refused it all utterly, even when he slipped and went down on his arse in-between Moon's legs with his face smacking into her abdomen, and she doing a clumsy somersault over his head. He watched as she stripped down to a camisole and her knickers, before running like crackers into the white, and bloody freezing cold surf. 

  
Jisoo could have stayed there down in the Busan region with her forever, but as the days went by a nagging feeling filled up his head and stomach. Out of care, he missed Seokmin, Hansol, Wonwoo and Cristina Dontraeovsky. While Moon had her own time swimming in the sea and he wondered thoughts on the sand, leaning back on his hands, he thought of how Cristina Dontraeovsky would plot to murder Moon if she knew about the girl's existence in his life. Jisoo grinned at the thought of that; Moon was no sulk. She'd have some news for the Russian woman.

  
On the Saturday Jisoo had left, on the next Saturday he went home. He expected Moon to be a bit upset, but he was amazed at how understanding and kind she was on the matter.

  
_You call me, eh?_ She ruffled up his hair before stroking it back down into a clean and normal look manner. _Don't you forget about me_

  
_Don't worry;_ Jisoo promised her. _I won't._

  
As Jisoo drove back through the country on countless motorway miles, he thought about the tracheotomy surgery that could land him in the shit as far as cancer growth and infection goes, but could also give him a voice, if garbled and robotic and wheezy. Never speak, or be able to speak - even if he sounded as thought he was going to drop dead from a lung disease any second.

  
He didn't know what to think of it precisely, but one thought came back to him again and again. He just couldn't do it; he was Hong Jisoo, born mute, and that's how it would be. Jisoo looked at it then, and found nothing sad or bitter about it. He found only a remarkable sort of gentleness. And every single bit of it all had to do with Moon.   
When he arrived back at he and Seokmin's house, he found Seokmin asleep on the sofa. He looked completely worn out, with huge bags under his eyes. Asleep on the sofa with him also was Hansol. Seokmin's ankles were by his shoulder, and Hansol's feet were tucked under the top of Seokmin's back, apparently now a disturbance to him.

  
Jisoo didn't know whether to wake them up or not, but, in the end, he decided to.

  
He pressed his hand to the top of Seokmin's head, before tapping his nose. Seokmin's head tipped to the side, and then his eyes came open to half-lids. He looked hazily in the semi-darkness of the sitting room up at Jisoo's figure, and then jerked sharply, emitting a deep-chested shriek, which then set off Hansol.

  
"When did you get back?!" Seokin's near squeal mixed with Hansol's roar of, "Fucking Christ!"

  
_Earlier today,_ Jisoo said. _I was driving mostly, getting back here._

  
They all went silent.

  
"Why...why the fuck did you just go?" Hansol said.

  
_I just wanted a break. I just needed a break._ Jisoo said. _I know I was been a dick_

  
"No, no, Soo, we don't mean it like that!" Hansol said up straight on the couch. "We just...you went to Russia all by yourself!" Hansol gazed at him aghast. "I mean...how did you go? Did you get stopped because of your muteness at the customs, or...and, like, jesus christ, how did it go then?" He sort of laughed, but it was stunned.

  
Jisoo suddenly wished he had never let Moon. He felt low without her. Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and went out into one of the two hallways that got him to the stairs for the second floor. 

  
"Don't worry about him." Hansol said as Seokmin got a peculiar expression on his face. "Let's ring up Cristina Dontraeovsky."

\-------------------

Cristina Dontraeovsky shook her head. "He couldn't have gone to my homeland." She shipped some of the red wine out of the glass. It was an hour after Hansol had rang her up.  
"How do you reckon that?" Hansol asked.

  
She looked at him coolly. "He doesn't have a passport."

  
"So where's he been then?" Seokmin questioned after a few long moments.

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky shrugged, before leaning back against the chair. "Dunno. But either way, he's too-timed us very well. More than we ever give him credit for." She half-smiled tenderly, and all the life both went out of Seokmin and Hansol absolutely.

  
Seokmin rang up Wonwoo. "Jisoo." He said simply. 

  
"What about him?" Wonwoo replied.

  
"Was he with you?" Seokmin asked Wonwoo over the phone.

  
"No. Why do you ask?"

  
Seokmin rested a hand on his hip tiredly, and then leant agianst the wall. "We got too-timed." The hand came up to scratch his lower back. He had had a freak accident at work; he tripped over a patients toddler and had crashed through a half open door, the doorknob getting his back on the way down. Honestly he was more worried he had hurt the child or the patient by going arse over head. His tissue and muscles were still tender and swollen, and he hadn't been able to drive home, so Hansol had to come and pick him up at about eight 'o' clock from the clinic.

  
"What do you mean?" Wonwoo asked.

  
"He's got no passport. He wrote us some shit and then he just disappeared." Seokmin responded. All of a sudden, Wonwoo started to laugh.

  
"There's a old saying that husband's pick up tendencies of their wives." Wonwoo said. "Jisoo's finally injected his dose of Cristina Dontraeovsky. She figured out he was too-timing right?"

  
Seokmin was speechless. "Uh...yeah?"

  
Wonwoo laughed more. "She's a bitch but she's really funny, Cristina Dontraeovsky."

  
"Haven't heard you laugh in a while."

  
"Yeah..."

  
"Just wanna tell me why?" Seokmin sometimes felt he doubled up as God as well as sports physiotherapist, mute translator, lip-reader, co-owner of the house and best mate in general. 

  
"Jisoo went all funny; decided he loved me than got bored and snapped, ranted for a bit, then stuck his tongue down my throat, wanted to go back to my place...then he snapped again and hated my guts."

  
"Wonwoo...why didn't you just say? Why did you just have to hate all of us?" Seokmin asked.

  
Wonwoo didn't say how he heard Seokmin and Hansol complaining about him one day. pathetic and clingy and always invading spaces he had no right to. Wonwoo always felt like he was on the outside, anyway. the damage it had done to his confidence was irreparable, so he nursed that bitterness quietly, the little blackbird on his shoulder that made him miserable and angry. it was hard to connect with Bo Hyuk, who was dating girls and getting beaten up by their dads. that was a whole different ball-park. Wonwoo sometimes hated the sight of his father, uncle, brother, mother, and then Jisoo, Seokmin, and Hansol. but, otherwise, he was up the shit. he didn't have anyone else. but then...Cristina Dontraeovsky was introduced into all of their lives by hansol, for the sheer point of helping jisoo who seemed ready to top himself any coming day. not actually...but he was miserable and vicious and cold. it was like he had never been mute before, it was a recent disorder. he had struggled with it so much, that all of them they he couldn't go on trying to cope with it, and they couldn't go on trying to cope with him and his "throat problem". Bo Hyuk's term for Jisoo's muteness came to be used by them all. despite Jisoo's agony at not being able to make sound, Wonwoo liked how Jisoo knew what it was to feel barely human, let alone feel alive. just be so desperately shit that enough was enough. when she had turned up, Wonwoo had been fascinated by her, just a little bit. Cristina Dontraeovsky. she moved about Jisoo in a way that almost predatory, seeing into him and fixing him, old-world shoes clacking against the floor and the hems of her dress fluttering about. Wonwoo wished she would get bored of Jisoo, and she would come and look at him like that, talk to him like that. it became so vicious a desire that it burned torturously in him; it was both a blessing and a damnation to him. it took him several months to get over it, and all throughout that time she existed more and more in their lives. Wonwoo wondered in a way why Hansol had passed Cristina Dontraeovsky over to Jisoo; why not just keep her for himself?

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky once referred to him as "intelligent, well-humored, and un-aggravating". 

  
he never knew what to do with that. if he was any other human being... maybe. 

  
Wonwoo couldn't come at any sort of terms with the existence of her. 

  
"I don't want to blame him." Wonwoo admitted.

  
"Do you just want to come around? Can you just come around?"

  
"Not tonight, Seokmin. Tomorrow night, maybe."

\-----------------

_Are we having Christmas this year at Hansol's with Cristina Dontraeovsky cooking, or at we having it at Cristina Dontraeovsky's place with Cristina Dontraeovsky cooking?_ Jisoo asked Seokmin, three weeks later on the first of december, coming down into the kitchen in a bed-shirt and a pair of jeans. It was Saturday morning.

  
_Uh...actually hyung, I was having a think. Why don't we have it here this year - with Cristina Dontraeovsky cooking of course?_ Seokmin asked Jisoo. Jisoo hovered about, clearly having a think.

  
_We'll...have to show her how everything works,_ Jisoo twisted around on his heel.

  
_I don't think we do actually,_ Seokmin grinned. _She's been in and out of this kitchen for the best part of four years. And she's a woman_

  
_So she automatically knows how everything works?_ Jisoo asked.

  
_Yep,_ Seokmin nodded.

\---------------

"Do you want me to come around as you're nervous?" Seuncheol asked.

  
Jeonghan nodded vehemently. "Yes."

\-----------------

_I have all I need, even though you're standing right here in front of me. I don't need you to complete me,_ Jisoo told him at their front step.

  
Jeonghan's eyes misted over, and his throat closed up.

_I've got someone else,_ Jisoo added.

  
The lump in Jeonghan's throat making him a wreck grew more vicious. _Who is it?_ he asked, managing only the most delicate of tones. _Seokmin?_ He suggested the mere idea. W _onwoo? Hansol? The Russian woman?_

  
_A girl from down by the sea. Her name is Dal,_ Jisoo replied

  
_Moon?_ Jeonghan echoed, nearly a sneer. His eyes flooded over, but his throat cleared one; one release for another

  
_She's lovely,_ Jisoo leant against door, each hand hugging a elbow. _She's wonderful._

  
_How was I not any of that to you?_ Jeonghan asked faintly.

  
_I'm not saying you weren't. It just didn't work out,_ Jisoo responded. Jeonghan's heart broke fresh all over again.

  
_You really want her, over me?_ Jeonghan questioned.

  
Slowly, Jisoo nodded. Keonghan's chest shivered with a collapsed breath that hung hollow and unalive in his lungs. three moments later, Jisoo shut the door with a harsh, firm click in his face. Seungcheol immediately walked up the street towards him, and tucked him under his arm. "Oh, Jeonghan..." Seungcheol said, walking home with Jeonghan tucked up inside his coat, his collarbones beneath his shirt getting wet.

\---------------

Wonwoo, Hansol and Seokmin were pissed off with Jisoo; no doubt about it in the world. Seokmin would have kicked Jisoo out to sleep in his car, but half of the house was legally his. All three of them walked the four blocks to Seungcheol and Jeonghan's to apologise on behalf of Jisoo's downright atrocious behaviour. Seungcheol answered the door. Hansol didn't fuck about, telling him why they were here.

  
"He's asleep, now." Seungcheol said. He looked tired himself. "Come in guys, sorry, forgetting how to be normal - in you get."

  
"Have you met her yet?" Seungcheol asked them as they got crowded into the virtually walless home. They all admired the inside of the place, and gave Seungcheol their compliments. It was the first time they had seen the inside of Seungcheol'n'Jeonghan's.

  
"This girl from the beach? Nah." Hansol and Seokmin shook their heads. Wonwoo pulled out his phone.

  
"Arsehole." He said aloud.

  
"What is it?" Seungcheol asked.

  
"Jisoo's telling us we're been stupid." Wonwoo relayed. He turned off his phone. "Dick." He looked at Seungcheol. "Can I talk to Jeonghan?"

  
"Yeah, yeah, if you want...look, we'll just have to see with him, yeah? If Jisoo's name comes up again I think he'll just explode."

  
"That might be a good thing for him." Hansol said. "Exploding. Gets all the unhappiness and sadness out."

  
Seungcheol smiled. "See how we go." He offered. "The hall down there -" He pointed southwards. "Four doors - the two doors at the end are the laundry and bathroom, and Jeonghan might either be in my room, his room, or the study-cum-spare-room we have."

  
While Seokmin and Hansol talked to Seungcheol, Wonwoo went in search of Jeonghan. He checked one room, all exposed brick walls and grey and black bed-linen with a couple of football trophies on a bookshelf and photographs of a younger life; Wonwoo determined this was Seungcheol's room, and then went to the only room with the door closed - apart from the bathroom. He knocked there. There was no immediate answer, but he heard feet on the floorboards. The lock turned in the door and it opened a bit. 

  
"Hey, Jeonghan, do you remember me?" Wonwoo said to Jeonghan. "Wonwoo - I'm a friend of Jisoo's." The door closed a bit, but Wonwoo pushed against it gently, coaxing Jeonghan not to entreat back inside by himself. All around Jeonghan's eyes were swollen, and he looked distinctly pissed off. "All of us have come around; we just wanna say we're sorry for earlier."

  
"Ok." Jeonghan accepted it quietly.

  
"We're not picking a fight, hyung; we're sorry. We really are." Wonwoo said. Jeonghan looked at him for a minute.

  
"Is Jisoo actually gay, or is he -" Jeonghan trailed off from his question. 

  
"How do you mean?" Wonwoo asked.

  
"Because he's left me for a woman, right..." Something like a weak grimace came over Jeonghan's face. Wonwoo sighed.

  
"No human beings just one thing, and Jisoo's..." Wonwoo searched for the right way of saying it. This wasn't quite his niche. He needed Mingyu, but the other man was too busy off in Australia frolicking about with wombats and women named things like "Gayleen" and "Sharon" and "Stacey". "Jisoo has never been good with any of that stuff. It's fine for anyone else to be gay, lesbian, trans, whatever you like -" Wonwoo moved his hands, counting off the sexualities and alternative lifestyles. "- But if you bring it up with him, he just gets cold. He insists it's his life and his personal business, and it's nothing to do with "closet" or any of that shit; that's a direct quote, hyung, I should add." Wonwoo hovered, trying to get to the point but not being sure if he had already made it. "He doesn't want anything like that discussed; he kind of wants it underwater. Functioning, alive, but it's not above the surface, and it's too deep under the water for any of us to reach into and pull out. The only choice for us is to dive in, and that's when what we call the "crazy shit" starts. Everything just goes bad." Wonwoo thumbed his brow. "This new girl...Jisoo doesn't have flings with women; guys, a bit of that, but not with women. the only time he really stays with them is when they've made an impact on him. Like Cristina Dontraeovsky; they have to have so much about them, this kind of power. Completely draw him in, do you know what I mean? All of us have a bit of bastard in us; really selfish, nasty, arrogant - just pig. I know that you know you haven't always got it right with jisoo, but his muteness has made him dark inside. Not dark dark..." Wonwoo tried to retract his previous statement. "He just misses something he's never had, and he can't really ever have. He wants to be able to try for people he's with, but it's impossible. That's probably the cause of most fuck-ups of his, really. It all surrounds...it's all about "sound". It kills everything, sound."

  
"I still like him, Jeonghan said. "I didn't expect him to just take me back instantly, and I sort of expected this in a way. But I expected it different. I expected Cristina Dontraeovsky to be involved in some way, and I expected him to yell and scream and get really mad. But it was just so simple; like you're...like you're acknowledging some idiot at work or something, you know? Sort of...just bland. It's someone else after all, you know?" Jeonghan smiled a bit. "You're a really nice guy, Wonwoo. You and the rest of them - Hansol and Seokmin."

  
"If you'd like to feel better, I've got a bit of an idea for you." Wonwoo suggested.

  
"Yeah?" Jeonghan echoed.

  
"I don't claim this as an original method, but it really, really works..."

\--------------------

"My great-grandfather, grandfather, father, father with mum, and me and my brother have raced this track; this is what we do on the weekends sometimes." Wonwoo said to Jeonghan, two helmets tucked under his arms, himself no wearing a driver's protective suit. He was going to give Jeonghan a patronizing speech before tucking him - and the helmet - into the passenger seat. Everyone had packed up and had climbed into Hansol's ute - that had been a circus in itself. Jeonghan and Hansol were in the cabin, but Wonwoo, Seungcheol and Seokmin were hidden under blankets and sacks in the tray with wooden crates heaped on top of them, hiding them from view if anyone were to peer over the sides. Wonwoo, Seungcheol and Seokmin spent twenty-five minutes breathing in chalk and the smell of soil and rust and petrol as they drove along; Jeonghan made Hansol stop five times, having kittens, to check on Seungcheol and the others in the back. Via instructions from Wonwoo before they had left Seungcheol'n'Jeonghan's, they eventually came to *rally driving racing track". "Having a race around in a car at 186 kilometers an hour; it's the adrenaline and just the excitment of it. Making you dizzy and feel really good; it's just this perfect thing."

  
Jeonghan looked slightly terrified. "What if I die?"

  
Wonwoo shrugged. "You die."

  
Everyone else burst out laughing.

  
"With you!" Jeonghan added starkly, breathing in heavily.

  
"I'm so filming this, hyung..." Seokmin and Hansol giggled while Seungcheol grinned with his arms crossed, watching on. 

  
"Rally driving made into a break-up cure?" Seungcheol echoed. "That guy's fucking amazing." He pointed to Wonwoo as the man coaxed Jeonghan into the passenger seat of a transformed Bentley with a turbo-charged engine, studded tyres to cope with the thick black ice, and nearly everything inside the car had been ripped out of the car to take it from nearly two ton to about...three ounces.

  
Wonwoo revved the engines so powerfully - and the engine itself was powerful in it's own right - that it split the air and Seokmin, Hansol and Seungcheol's heads into the a dozen little pieces. He and Jeonghan's hearing was protected a bit more, inside the helmets.

  
"We're going!" Wonwoo commentated through the car's in-built radio transmission something, and with a screech of obliterated black ice from the ground, the grip of the studded tyres been explored, the car took off in a blur. Hansol would swear for the rest of his life he heard Jeonghan scream, "FUCKING FUCKING CHRIST - JEEZ - AAAHHH!"

  
The inner surbubian track was a kilometer descent, and climb. Hansol picked up the speed radar and clicked into place as Wonwoo in the Bently sped through, completeing the first lap of the kilometer course on ice, in one minute and two-point-three seconds.

  
"How fast is he going?!" Seungcheol gawped.

  
Hansol calmly checked the speed-radar; he'd seen Wonwoo doing this before. "289 kilometers an hour." He replied quite simply. Seokmin looked a bit faint before pissing himself laughing, whooping and shouting at Seungcheol took over filming duties.

  
"This is so going on YouTube." Hansol smiled to himself. Wonwoo was a bloody good driver. There was nothing to worry about, even if you couldn't go that fast on ice. That was another thing.

  
You can't go this fast on ice.

  
Unless you're one of the Jeon men.

  
"WE'RE DOING A SECOND! WE'RE DOING A SECOND!" Seokmin shouted out as Wonwoo didn't drive off to slow down in the emergency lane, but kept up in the track.

  
In fact, Wonwoo drove the Bentley for twenty minutes, giving them all a frequent communication every lap they went. By the time Wonwoo finished - deeming it enough for Jeonghan and for the sake of the Bentley's internals - he and the car had driven for nearly twenty-five kilometers are speeds between 150 and the top speed of 290 kilometers an hour. Wonwoo and Jeonghan both managed to get out by themselves; Wonwoo bounced up and down, literally high and inexplicably happy.

  
As soon as Jeonghan took off his helmet, he staggered sideways and then vomited everywhere. Wonwoo, Hansol, Seokmin and Seungcheol cheered. There was no harm. Not a single bit of harm at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had two comments on what a cunt Jisoo is being. I'm not unhappy - actually, I'm absolutely DELIGHTED that my work is getting such passionate attention! There's another side to this concept I want to show as well. Anyone - whether you're handsome, ugly, male, female, young, old, able-bodied, disabled, mute, deaf, or perfectly normal as far as health and condition of your body goes - can be a ride, ignorant, arrogant, detrimental, selfish, heartbreaking, cruel and decided on a set path.   
> The whole work is a concept of what it is to be a young man, mute, and how that impacts on his life. But, also, with the concept there is the character who is not just afflicted by his muteness, and there is no such thing as a human being/character where his/her condition/disease/disorder defines them. No living person, or character portrayal, is just one thing. It's an anthropological rule. It's a matter impossible. So this is why we see the amount of grievance that is being caused in-between relationships and friendships.
> 
> There's also the concept of boundaries been crossed and thrown aside. 
> 
> So far, this book is virtually nearly entirely written at the weekends, and in the evening - with the exceptions of writing about Jangmi and her family, which of course is a day time occurrence. In this work also, it's portrayed a lot from Jisoo's POV, but also from the other characters POV. How his friends lives work around them, and how he lives in their lives as well. We must remember that in this concept, it's not normality. Jisoo's mute.
> 
> I do agree, Jisoo is being a cunt. But I want to show this as a part of the work. And, just so you know, things change a little bit. And that's another thing; all people change. No one ever stops changing.
> 
> And change this work shall


	8. I'm Just Thinking About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jangmi becomes a very ill baby, Moon comes up to visit Jisoo in Seoul and makes a unforgettable impression on Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Hansol and Seokmin, and all the men come up with a slightly demented plan of how to observe if Moon is a suitable woman to be introduced into their group; all shit breaks loose at Moon's place due to a freak series of happenings at Summer's high-school, which in turn come to impact the whole family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, the comment about pubic hair. It's true, women do say this (I think it's a world-wide sentiment, but as far as I know, it's as loose as fleas in Wales and Scotland and England). No matter what colour a girl dyes her lashes, brows and locks, you can tell her natural colour by having a peek in her knickers. To any goody-two-shoes or general twat, it probably sounds quite scandolous to say, but in the UK sayings like that are seen as comedy. Everyone thinks the Brits are uptight and cold; trust me, you should see them at a rape trial. They've got nooses tied and metal-capped baseballs bats - the lot. And, also, you won't believe the shit they get away with in that country. A friend of mine hired a man in a van; and, no, don't start about male hookers - the usual James-Bond-o-grams, Firefighter-o-grams, things like that. If you're a single chick or bloke, and you need help to move house, you hire a man in a van. What you get, instead, is a fat turd in a pair of baggy jeans in a van. Now, my friend had one of these deluded twats turn up. My friend asks the guy, "Hey, mate how are you doin'?"
> 
> "Bit tired actually. I got meself a new girlfriend and we've been up all night making a home porno."
> 
> SORRY, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!
> 
> Welcome to England, ladies and gents :))

Jisoo came to virtually move in with Moon and her family, for the amount of time he spent with her and around them. She began to come up on the train, too, from the Busan train on Friday evening, and stay with him in he'n'Seokmins house until Monday morning where she was out the door by eight 'o' clock to get the train back home. Every weekend that Moon wasn't at he'n'Seokmin's house, he was down at hers.

  
Moon's Grandmother, her husband Jim, Moon's Mother, her husband Wonpil, plus all of her sisters who Jisoo referred to by their nicknames, which were just the English translations of their korean names - Summer, Skye, Star and Coco - took to him like a duck to water. Summer was a ethereal beauty in flower-patterned white dresses with a quietness of internal nature that made Jisoo think of Wonwoo; she was eighteen and somewhat cold, though she was kind as far as he was concerned. Skye and Star were "a bit goth, but not the crazy stuff. we just like dark colour palettes and the classic Italian movie star make-up and that" twins; their room was a collection of vinyl records that were in English, French, German and Russian, ranging from the 1890's instrumental classicism to 1920's jazz, and ending through the decades to 1980's disco. Along with the records were vintage clothes and shoes and jewelry, and photographs in black and white of their great-grandparents, one of them had been a keen photographer and rich enough to afford film. As a consequence, there was a beautiful sort of art that was made of captured images of his wife - their great-grandmother - and his daughter, the Grandmother married to Jim. Coco was a downright nutter; two electric guitars, three pet sheep, one blackbird, ripped skinny jeans and half of the time she just ran around in boots and tights and one of her step-father's shirts she had pinched from the washing line. She had very dry skin and a problem with eczema; Jisoo more than once had seen Moon or Summer pull her onto her lap to massage cream into her skin. Coco didn't like that. You'd most as well be trying to do that to a wild horse; she went absolutely fucking ballistic at the mere sight of the small white plastic bottle filled with the prescription cream.

  
"Oh, no!" She would wail. "I smell like agent orange after that! ALWAYS!"

  
Coco - slightly worriedly for Jisoo - also seemed absolutely convinced that if he split up with Moon he would go straight for Summer. The trouble was, she was doing her best to convince everyone else of it, and, even more troublesome, she didn't have a touch of malice in her; she was just been a factual eleven-year-old girl.

  
When Seokmin first caught sight of Moon, he was stunned. Jisoo had told neither he, Hansol or Wonwoo anything about her face, her hair, or her personality. They had never even seen a photo of her. She had found their address, but neither one of them was home, it been half an hour before Seokmin clocked off at the clinic at the sports stadium, and it been a further five hours before Jisoo came home from looking after Jangmi.

  
More troublesomely, it was Jeonghan - not anyone else, not even Seungcheol, it was Jeonghan - who had driven past in his car to see the blonde girl sitting on the doorstep with a small suitcase, waiting, and waiting, and waiting. That in itself had caused world war three, or, as Jisoo yelled at Seokmin later on, This is what happen when you get involved with your neighbours! Unless you move, or they move, there's always going to be a problem! Moon gave a brief, but neatly detailed recount of what happened to both Jisoo and Seokmin - Moon meeting Seokmin had been another tiny disaster as well.

  
Tiny, as long as the definition of "tiny" is briefly undefined, that is.

\--------------------

It was a head of blonde hair, in a blue dress, beneath a black umbrella sitting on the doorstep that happened to be Jisoo and Seokmin's; that was all it was to catch Jeonghan's attention as he drove home. Simple as that.

  
Jeonghan pulled up at the curb and climbed out of his car, a little Honda. Moon's eyes narrowed at him for a moment, before she smiled. "Oh, you're gay, no worries." She diagnosed him by sight.

  
"Are you to do with Jisoo?" Jeonghan found himself asking. "Are you the girl?"

  
"I think so." Moon replied earnestly. "Any idea when they're coming home? My phone is flat."

  
"Oh, uh...I can text if you want?" Jeonghan asked. Moon nodded. Jeonghan did as he said.

  
_There's a girl on your doorstep; blonde with a blue dress, black umbrella, and a suitcase with a rural accent. Is this your new girlfriend? Btw, she's wondering how long she will be waiting outside for you or Seokmin to come home_

  
And barely thirty seconds later, a reply came.

  
_I'm coming home now with the baby_

  
Jeonghan relayed this to Moon. Suddenly, she shone so brightly that Jeonghan's knees went weak on him. 

  
"Oh, he told me about Jangmi." She said softly. "He adores her."

  
 _More than he ever did me,_ Jeonghan thought horribly inside. Jeonghan filled in a long ten minutes, talking to the girl about really nothing at all until Jisoo turned up in his Mazda with a baby seat visible in the back.

  
Jisoo sprinted from the car over to Moon. _Jeez, how long have you been out here?_ It only stopped raining a few minutes ago, he said down to her. She was down back on the front step again, and she got to her feet, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  
 _I've got my umbrella; I'm all nice and dry,_ she replied. _Let's see this beautiful little baby girl, hey?_ She put her arm through his and they walked over to the left side of the Mazda. Jisoo noticed how carefully and expertedly Moon un-buckled Jangmi from her baby-seat, and then supported her in her arms.

  
 _I'll take baby, you take baby's stuff, and your friend can collect my things if he's kind enough,_ Moon said.

  
That was how things went. Jeonghan had worked out fairly quickly that Moon had no idea about he and Jisoo's relationship and the history of it. Jeonghan also knew that Moon hadn't picked that Jisoo liked cock, either. To put it simply. Jeonghan looked in-between Moon and Jisoo, Moon sitting with him at the dining room table and Jisoo in the kitchen. A vivid recollection of Jisoo sucking him off came to mind. The memory made a bitter and sensual curve to one side of Jeonghan's mouth, but it was missed by Jisoo who was out of the way working the kettle, and Moon who had ducked beneath the table to take off her boots, sliding the shoes together beneath the table by the centre-point legs. When Jeonghan had taken Moon's up to Jisoo's bedroom - not the sitting room or the spare bedroom, Jisoo's bedroom - Jeonghan had had a quick look around. He had only been there in once, technically, but as he looked around...there was something different about it. Jeonghan couldn't quite describe it, but he could tell that one than one person had been sleeping in Jisoo's un-made bed. And if this was the first time Moon had made a appearance in Seoul from wherever she had come from down by the sea...who the hell was sharing his bed? To himself, Jeonghan already knew the answer. It had to be Cristina Dontraeovsky. Who else? But how well was she going to fare with Moon's existence?

  
Jeonghan saw a perfect place to make trouble, but he was friends with Hansol, Seokmin and Wonwoo. Really good friends with Wonwoo now since the racing track...God, that had been utterly fucking terrifying.

  
No wonder he had been sick everywhere once the maniac finally turned off the ignition.

  
There was a man who never applied the brakes.

  
Jeonghan smiled at the thought of Wonwoo. He was a really nice guy. 

  
Jisoo came into the dining room with two mugs of coffee - one for he and Jeonghan - and a mug of tea for Moon, who smiled and thanked him for going to the effort.

  
 _What sort of boyfriends has she had previously if they can't make her a drink?_ Jeonghan thought. Moon saw the funny expression on his face and mistook it for something else.

She giggled.

  
"Sorry about that; I've got four little sisters. I'm quite used to being the one making drinks and washing clothes and running around with brooms, hitting them as a punishment." She smiled. Jisoo laughed.

  
 _My Grandmother used a wooden spoon,_ he said. Moon laughed too.

  
 _Handy those solid old wooden spoons?_ She sipped her tea, and told Jisoo he had made it just right. _Imagine all the little children over the years that have had welts inflicted by those things?_

  
Jeonghan hated Jisoo for how widely he smiled at her, clearly loving every fibre of her being that radiated out into the air in-between the three of them. Jeonghan saw clearly then that Jisoo was never going to ever think about him again, not with Moon about. 

  
Jeonghan didn't pay any attention to their conversation - he couldn't anyhow, as it was all silent, all mouthed words. 

  
"Did you hear anything?" Moon's voice came back to him. Jeonghan scowled at her. Moon didn't seem very faced, but Jisoo immediately got angry.

  
"What?" Jeonghan said.

  
"I was saying about how all of you -" Moon shook her head, breaking off. "Nevermind." She looked at him, and, suddenly, much more kindness washed over her. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "I'm so sorry...I thought because you were Jisoo's friend - oh! Are you not able to lip-read or lip-speak?" She asked.

  
Jeonghan shook his head. "Harder than it looks." He offered up. Jisoo made a sudden sharp movement, but in the process he accidentally knocked his mug of coffee and Moon's mug of tea to the floor. Most of it went on her lap and ribs, soaking through the pretty blue of her chest. 

  
The liquid from both mugs was boiling hot, and along with her dress being automatically ruined, the fabric irreparably stained, it hurt her. Jeonghan despite his feelings towards her dived up from his seat along with Jisoo as Moon yelped, and tears prick her eyes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck - aah!" She cried, pulling her soaking wet dress off over her head and throwing it to the floor. She was left without a bra on, no knickers, and a pair of tights that were ripped off as well; Jeonghan could see the steam coming off the wet fabric. That was how hot the coffee and tea had been when it was spilt. All of a sudden, Moon was naked in front of them, and she let out a shuddered gasp, her hands coming up to hug her shoulders, her forearms and elbows covering her breasts; she was hunched over slightly, her legs crossed, one ankle beside the other on the floor, blocking the view of her unshaven abdomen and vagina from Jeonghan's line of view - if he looked down. Jeonghan suddenly remembered something his Mother once said; you can always tell a girl's natural hair colour by her pubic hair.

  
You don't put dye down there unless you're very stupid, very peculiar, or you're some sort of artist. 

  
Moon's pubic hair as thick and black and curled, like a lamb's fleece. Jeonghan thought to think it revolting, that he had that thought, but otherwise he thought that was stupid; why punish yourself for harmless thoughts?

  
It's just her hair.

  
But...hair down there.

  
Moon stared in-between them, utterly vulnerable and completely aware of it. Her blonde hair hung in curtains either side of her face, but half went over her back so not enough pieces came down at the front to cover her nudity. Along the sides of her hips and thighs and towards the back of her bum, red-purple stretchmarks decorated the pale flesh like crude pattern work, the ugly looking slashes moving along together in some sort of captured rhythm. She had them also on the insides of her thighs, and along the outer sides of her breasts.

  
Moon sniffed suddenly.

  
"Oh, shit, I'm goanna have to sneeze, can someone get me a tissue?" her face wrinkled up as she tried to delay a sneeze. Jeonghan rushed out of the dining room as Jisoo fetched a box out of the kitchen cupboard.

  
Steam was still coming from Moon's soaking wet clothes on the floor.

  
Barely five minutes later Seokmin's car pulled up front and he was walking through the front door.

  
Jisoo was wringing out the fabric of Moon's ruined dress into the kitchen sink while she sat back down on the seat Jeonghan had occupied; her seat and section of the table was wet with a crude mix of cold tea and coffee. Moon had just checked on the baby Jisoo was looking after; she felt sorry for him. Suddenly, so much was happening. She had offered to help clean up her dress, but Jisoo had insisted on doing it; he said it was his fault that she got near third-degree burns. The baby - Jangmi - had been asleep in her basinet in the sitting room, and Moon was grateful her nappy was dry when she had checked. She didn't feel comfortable changing the nappy of a baby that wasn't allotted as her responsibility. Moon had her knees drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped around her knees, nearly on the verge of tears. Never could anything more humiliating or downright disastrous have happened to just ruin everything. Nothing had gone wrong when Jisoo had met her family; in fact, everything was beyond perfection. But, oh no, when she had to come down - world war three had to virtually start. Moon wiped her eyes on her wrist, sniffing again. Moon knew she wasn't going to sleep very well that night. All she wanted was to call up her family and hear her Mum's voice and Wonpil's voice too; in fact, she wanted to hear everything. Nanna, Jim, Yeoleum, Haneul, Byeol and Meoli.  
Summer, Skye, Star and Coco.

  
"Oh, God, you're Seokmin, right?" came from Moon as a tall and angularly handsome man walked into the dining room. He gazed open-mouthed down at her. Suddenly, Jisoo appeared from the kitchen.

  
 _Everything went really badly_ , he said to Seokmin. _I knocked hot tea and coffee onto her; thank God she didn't get burnt. Her dress is ruined; I've been trying to save it but it needs to go in the bin. Jangmi's sleeping in her basinett too in the living room. She's on the table, by the heater. Why was there so much crap on it?_

  
 _You wouldn't know, you've barely been out of your room,_ Seokmin replied. He gave a quick, embarrassed smile down to Moon. "Hey," he waved a little bit.

  
"How do you do? Apart from seeing my bits and pieces?" She smiled quite kindly. 

  
_You could have given her your shirt,_ Seokmin pointed out to Jisoo. Suddenly, he felt quite a bit different to Moon's existence. He was still pissed off with Jisoo for how he handled he and Jeonghan's - admittedly, a bit tattered - relationship, but Moon had just gave him one example of how she was...not as he thought.

  
Jisoo didn't have any reply to that.

  
 _Soo, I'll take care of this;_ Seokmin gestured to the sodden and horribly stained dress in Jisoo's hands. _Find her luggage and get her something to put on_

  
 _Alright, Hitler,_ Jisoo replied coolly. He went back into the kitchen and Seokmin followed him. 

  
_No, don't start._ Soekmin warned him. You couldn't have handled that worse. She's completely naked! He pointed in her general direction through the fridge and the wall. 

  
_Not my fault she doesn't wear underwear,_ Jisoo commented, going to put Moon's dress into the rubbish bin, but thinking better of it. He folded the damp fabric, and sat it down beside the sink. 

  
_Oh, stop picking a fight!_ Seokmin pushed at his shoulder making him swing around. _And_ \- he exhaled heavily - _Do I have to tell you not to be like that about your own girlfriend?_

  
 _Amazing, really, that you know what that means considering how much time you spend sitting on cock,_ Jisoo replied, something sparking in his eyes. Picking a fight. Wanting a fight. Ready for a fight.

  
 _Why the fuck are we doing this to each other?_ Seokmin asked, scoffing incredulously. That had hurt. What Jisoo had said. He searched Jisoo's face. _Especially with Moon in the next room?_

  
 _I wish she hadn't come up_ , Jisoo replied candidly. _I only said about where I lived in Seoul because her mother and her step-father asked. And her youngest sister wanted to gather evidence I wasn't a creep either. Look up our house on google maps and showed everyone the pictures from the real estate agent website - when we bought it, do you remember? It's all still on the internet. Moon doesn't have to meet any of you, get involved. But...anyway. I wished she'd just stayed down by the sea so I could come down whenever I wanted - and I would do. She didn't have to be involved in all of this; it's fucked as it is_

  
Seokmin looked over Jisoo's body. _You shouldn't be with her._ Seokmin said. _You should be with Jeonghan. Moon's lovely; even though I just said "hi" to her, she...she's like Cristina Dontraeovsky. she's warm and kind. is this your thing with girls? you go for girls with personalities like that? That sort of caring nature, but they still rile up?_ Seokmin smiled a little bit. _I don't mind that,_ he added honestly, feeling softer. _But if you want to hide her away to have her as your secret that you come to every now and again - she's not going to understand that. her heart won't understand that_

  
 _Don't tell me things about Moon's heart,_ Jisoo replied. Seokmin left it at that. There was no more he could do about it, even for the better.

  
Definitely, not for the worst. He thoroughly believed that Jisoo wasn't getting it quite right for himself, but he wasn't trying to sabotage anything. No, of course not, that wasn't the point at it. Seokmin knew that Jisoo didn't believe that, but it was true. He just spoke his mind, because he thought there was a part of Jisoo that needed to hear it, wanted to hear it.

  
Seokmin could understand why Jisoo wanted to keep Moon locked away; in his own little box. But this girl wasn't a doll to be put away and searched out again.

  
Seokmin led Moon upstairs - with Moon walking behind him - and swiftly turned around as he pushed open Jisoo's bedroom door. Moon chuckled softly.

  
"Thanks love. What a gentleman you are." She told him. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, before closing Jisoo's bedroom door behind her.

  
Seokmin nearly fell over.

  
God, was she not like he thought she was. 

\---------------

By Sunday evening, it was organized that everyone was going to "accidentally come around when Jisoo wasn't home and meet Moon". 

  
"I wouldn't do that." Seokmin said to Hansol over the phone. "Has anyone said about this to Cristina Dontraeovsky? Because she'll chop Moon up into fourteen-ish pieces if she finds out."

  
"No, when Jeonghan was putting it around he said it was best she didn't know."

  
"Jeonghan?" Seokmin repeated. "What's he got to do with it?"

  
"Oh, didn't you know?" Hansol asked.

\------------------

Cristina Dontraeovsky rang up Wonwoo and asked if his Dad could take a look at her car.

  
"No worries, what make and model is it?" he asked her.

  
"Why's that?"

  
"What exactly is wrong with it?"

  
"It won't start."

  
"There might be an engine dysfunction, too-old oil; it might be the radiator, or something electrical."

  
"Ok, ok. It's a 1924 Rolls Royce Phantom, English-made." Cristina Dontraeovsky replied. Wonwoo went silent on the other end of the line.

  
"Wonwoo?"

  
"You've got a 1924 Rolls Royce Phantom?" Wonwoo inquired faintly.

  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Even though Wonwoo couldn't see her, she nodded, lighting up a cigarette.

  
"Wait a minute, will you?" He asked her. 

  
"Yeah, yeah, no worries. Is this a big problem?"

  
"No, we just don't have century old rollers come in often." Wonwoo burst out into delighted laughter. "Do you mind if we take some photos when we come around?"

  
"Hang on, how many of you are there?"

  
"Me, brother, Dad and Uncle. Plus Mum will want to have a look."

  
"Oh, right, the whole Jeon clan."

  
"Yeah." a pause. "Sorry, is that alright?"

  
"No worries, _dorogaya._ All of you are welcome to drool over my car."

\---------------

Cristina Dontraeovsky was missing Jisoo terribly. But for some reason, Wonwoo's deep voice - and the equally deep voices of his brother, father and uncle - calmed her down immeasurably.

  
They reminded her of Russian voices.

  
the voices of her own Dad - now dead for many years - and her grandfather - still alive and kicking.

  
"It's such a beautiful condition!" Wonwoo's Dad praised her, gazing down tenderly at the curvacious bonnet and the windscreen, polished to a flawless clean, free of bugs and airborne pollution. She had just came out into her garage with a tray of coffee for all of them, and had offered around her cigarettes. 

  
"I do my best." She asnwered, smiling.

  
"Fuckin' good buildin's too, love." The Uncle also praised her. "Most women are fuckin' idiots with industrial property."

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky groaned. "I know!" She said. "I tried telling a friend of mine about trying to find a building that I could convert that didn't have heritage overlays, asbestos, chemical contamination, underground fuel tanks - the works. No understanding whatsoever of my troubles!"

  
"How did you go with buying this one?" Bo Hyuk asked her.

  
"It was empty when i bought it. It was old army offices and stores. before I bought it, I forced the owner to pay for the aspestos removal from the roof out of his own pocket."

  
"How you manage that?" Uncle exhaled a lungful of cigarette smoke.

  
"Oh, I threatened to kill him." Cristina Dontraeovsky replied softly, taking a sip of coffee.

\-----------------

"Just don't be obvious." Jeonghan said to Seungcheol as they walked down the street of Jisoo'n'Seokmin's block.

  
They knocked on the front door. Nothing happened at first.

  
"Should we try the back?" Seungcheol asked.

  
A second later, the door opened.

  
"Don't you know what hours Jisoo works?" Moon inquired. She looked beautiful, in a tight white turtleneck and a long black denim skirt; she had on no shoes, socks, or tights. She had her hair up in a loose french knot, held in place with a claw-grip comb, but strands came down about her face and fell down her back.

  
"No, of course we do." Seungcheol replied. "We just wanted to meet you."

  
Moon came across as a bit shy all of a sudden. "Ah..." She managed, before ducked her head, smiling nervously, her hands hugging her elbows. She looked back up at them, biting her lower lip.

  
 _She's hot,_ Seungcheol thought. _And she definitely doesn't belong in this city_

"You want to come in then? You're getting cold out there." She asked them.

\-----------------

More or less correctly, Cristina Dontraeovsky's Rolls Royce Phantom had shit itself due to a radiator clogged up by trying to run the eingine whilst half breathing in the polluted Seoul air. And the petrol she had been buying from a new service station had had too high a menthol concerntrate in it; it was eating away at the fuel seals by the mile and thus corrdoing the engine.

  
She invited the Jeon men - and Wonwoo's Mum - back through the buildings which had since been converted to four separate studios, a huge apartment home with the full amendities - four bedrooms, study, kitchen, dining room, two sitting rooms, two bathrooms, a laundry and a rooftop garden - with many skylights and huge bay-seat windows. They all admired her paintings - done in knife-decoration style - and Bo Hyuk and Dad joked that she should paint Wonwoo. They all laughed, but Wonwoo was aware of how the Russian woman gazed tenderly at his back, seriously considering the joke as a purposeful proposition. 

  
Wonwoo went still inside as his Father's eyes fell on a portrait of Jisoo, and he announced otuwardly, "Isn't that that mute boy?".

  
"Yeah, Dad." Wonwoo replied as Cristina Dontraeovsky glided forward effortlessly, and had a twenty minute conversation with the middle-aged man about her last collection, and how that painting had gone off to Denmark and Germany before coming back to Seoul.

  
"What a beautifully mannered girl." His Father continued to praise Cristina Dontraeovsky's existence as they walked down her street to where they had all loaded into one of the work four-wheel-drives. "You never see girls like that anymore; they're all rude bitches."

  
"And they're so violent; they behave like pigs in too much make-up at school." His Mother added. "There was a girl on the news who was held down and had a cigarette stubbed out on her face."

  
This set Uncle and Dad and Bo Hyuk in part off on a growling, bittered rant about everything from schools, dumb school-teachers and over-achievers to the government and how shit the traffic lights worked in the inner city.

  
Wonwoo got a text on his phone from Cristina Dontraeovsky. 

  
_Come back soon. I want to paint you._

\-------------------

Hansol turned up while Jeonghan and Seungcheol were about twenty minutes into seeing about Moon. 

  
Hansol introduced himself, and asked if she had Wonwoo yet.

  
"Oh, God, Jisoo's quite popular." She said. "There's been more of you boys than trains, I swear."

  
She talked easily enough to Hansol, but she was getting suffocated by all of the attention; she had truly meant her earlier statement. There had been more boys in and out than there had been trains. Honestly, she wished they would all go away. Or rather, she wished Meoli - Coco - was here to terrify the fuck out of them and send them racing out of the front door, perhaps with three "rabid" pet sheep after them.

  
And a couple of "radioactive" ducks. Moon knew her youngest and maddest sister wouldn't have any hesitation about dyeing the ducks feathers or spraying them green, just to give the right effect.

  
When her phone rang, Moon dived for it eagerly, and couldn't have excused herself out of the back door quick enough to the garden to answer the caller.

  
It was Summer. She was crying.

  
"Oh, God, Dal, I've done something terrible." She said, her voice broken up and hoarse.

  
"Darling, darling, shh, just tell me what's happened."

  
"You know that boy from my class? Seo-jun? The thing is...he's gay! He was having a kiss with his boyfriend who had jumped the fence behind the science block, and I accidentally walked around to the garden and saw them. Now they're absolutely terrified that I'll...just - I'll wreck everything!" She sobbed harder. "So they put on the internet that I'm a "raving lesbian" and the school doesn't want me coming back due to outcry from the other parents, and now all the girls are in trouble because apparently they're big sister is a huge lesbian!"

  
"The fucking -!" Moon broke off with a roar. Her eyes were considerably wet as well. "Darling, darling, don't worry. Have you told Mum and Nanna and Jim and Wonpil? if you haven't, do so, and I'm coming home now. The next train is like five 'o' clock or something. I'll pack my things now and be on that train. Tell Jim and Wonpil not to worry about picking me up, I'll get the butcher - Ji-hu - to drive me home. I did his son a favour a few weeks ago; I'll explain later. I love you, Summer, ok? It's alright, baby, I'm coming home. Hold on, it'll be alright. I'm coming home."

  
Moon entered back inside gracefully, smoothing down her skirt, trying not to give the appearance that anything was wrong. But that wasn't going to work. 

  
"Can you tell Jisoo that something really bad has happened back home?" She pleaded to them, coming into the sitting room, wringing her hands nervously. "Which has. My sister has been attacked for been a lesbian - which she isn't - and now the high-school wants to kick her out even though she's doing her GCSE's and they want to kick out our other two little sisters. I'm the oldest of five by the way, but Jisoo knows this. Tell him I'm sorry."

  
"Christ, this isn't the 1800's anymore, why are they doing this?" Jeonghan and Seungcheol said to Moon.

  
"Oh, you know the usual; inbred seaside village." She answered. Despite everything, none of the men could help laughing. A tiny smile came onto Moon's face.

  
"Get all your stuff together and I'll run you to the train station." Hansol offered. "When the next one home?"

  
"Either five or half five this evening." She answered.

  
"Half four now but by the time we get into the inner city and get a park at the station and get through the station it'll be about time for you." Hansol checked his phone.

  
"Well, this was nice but let's go, let's go!" Jeonghan took up place as Korean Hitler, and immediately everyone rushed upstairs to help Moon get her kit together and get her arse in the black denim skirt out of the front door as quick as they all could.

\------------------

Jangmi had been sick all day. Jisoo had had to call up her parents and all three of them had had to take the baby to the hospital. She didn't stop crying all day, and she had a terrible stomach consistently.

  
Five hours later, she was officially diagnosed with a allergy to the milk formula she was been weaned onto by Peter Weiss, who had been called up from his clinic. He immediately went nuts at a nurse for her brisk dismissal of the emergency.

  
"I thought German nurses were retarded, but you're a whole new level!" He roared. "That poor little girl has blood in her shit and you're telling me you ugly bitch that it's just allergy?!"

  
Another three hours later, the Doctor's ruled that some of Jangmi's illness was caused by her kidneys, and it was also the reason for the blood in her nappy. They weren't functioning correctly because Jangmi was having a problem weeing. It was no one's fault; it wasn't something that could be realized unless under a Doctor examination. Frankly, it was explained to them, that when jangmi went to wee, it was sucked back in again, and this constant problem was making the waste product be re-recycled again, until it eventually came out with a burning feeling, twice more toxic and prevalent in yellow hormone colour.

  
When they were finally allowed to go home with a worn out Jangmi, sleeping against her Mother's chest as she was carried back to the car, Peter Weiss and Jangmi's Dad told Jisoo again and again that it wasn't his fault, he couldn't have known. It was only that morning - just before they decided to go to the hospital - that blood had appeared in her nappy. Jisoo had told the parents a few nights ago that Jangmi either was showing signs of colic with her constant crying or restlessness - or she had just gone off of him. It had been a process over a few days, but, that day had been the worst.

  
Jisoo had expected Jangmi's parents to tell him to bugger off, not ever come back.

  
But they had thanked him for all of the help he had given, and said they were grateful.

  
Jisoo couldn't quite understand it; he felt like a total failure, not just to himself, but to Peter Weiss, the parents, and Jangmi as well.

  
When he came home, he expected Moon to come up the hallway with one of her pretty smiles on her face. But, instead, it was Seokmin, who told him everything.

  
Jisoo sank down onto the floor of the entrance hall with his head in his hands. He told Seokmin what happened with Jangmi.

  
"Jeez, is she staying overnight in the baby ward - area, sorry, you know what I mean?" Seokmin asked.

  
 _No, but she's got to be put onto a whole new different diet, a set of antibiotics, and something else - another sort of tablet - to help with her kidneys. They said she'll grow out of the weeing problem, but it's not good,_ Jisoo replied. _People are arseholes, aren't they? Poor Summer; all of Moon's sisters are great, but Summer - she's just beautiful. She's really, really kind_

  
Seokmin remembered to speak silently. _I sort of get it now,_ He said.

  
_What?_

  
_About keeping things separate._

  
Jisoo nodded. _Yeah._

  
 _Yeah._ Seokmin said. He looked at Jisoo. He touched the tip of Jisoo's nose, like Jisoo did to them when he was trying to communicate across feelings that mouthing words just couldn't convey.

  
Jisoo smiled small, and shook his head. Seokmin ran his finger along the line of Jisoo's nose. Jisoo's speterochromatic eyes gazed directly into his, knowing now Seokmin just wasn't trying to communicate. He was delving into something else. Seokmin's finger traced over his mouth.

  
 _Jangmi getting sick isn't your fault. It's not Peter Weiss's fault, it's not the parents fault,_ Seokmin told him. _It's just something natural. It's no one's fault_

  
 _It feels like that, though,_ Jisoo said. _Can't really help it_

  
 _Just don't,_ Seokmin responded. Just don't think like that.

  
Jisoo suddenly laughed. _I haven't been trying very hard lately, have I?_ He rubbed at one of his eyes, then smoothed Seokmin's hair over his head. Seokmin's eyes closed at the touch, but opened them again when Jisoo's fingers traced down his jaw and then his neck.

  
Was "serial cheat" the right way to describe Jisoo? Or was "infidel", or "moral-less" more correct terms? Either way, it didn't feel like that.

  
It never felt like that, as though both came together.

  
Seokmin always tasted the same, smelt the same, felt the same to Jisoo. It was like some anthropological naturalism that came with Seokmin just as his name and colour did. He always had this warmth about him, and his mouth had the same hot depth. Jisoo's nose bumped against Seokmin's nose as they moved together, Seokmin getting onto his knees in-between Jisoo's parted knees from where his head had been hanging. 

  
_A cry for help, more than anything,_ echoed in the back of Jisoo's head, his Grandmother's voice. He had been thirteen and watching a robber on the news who in the end had stolen no money and had not killed or harmed anyone.

  
"A cry for help, more than anything." She had said sadly, gazing at the television screen. 

  
It made Jisoo flinch. Seokmin pulled away, just a few centimeters, but Jisoo tugged the neck of Seokmin's shirt down, bringing Seokmin back down to him.

  
All of that was forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Coco is one of the best character's I've ever written. The sheer depravity of her youth, and the things I have created her to emit, along with her obsessive love of her ballet - when very small - and then her pet ducks and sheeps and getting a figure like a maori princess. 
> 
> There's this culture in Korea of all the boys have to have quite feminine features and abs and hair cut a certain way, and if a girl - no matter her height ratio or muscle mass or body in general - if she is over 50 kilograms, or 110 pounds, she's fat. She's overweight, and she needs to lose that weight. And, look, I'm not pissing down on it; I'm just pointing it out. And Anglo people or other races can't pick at Korean - and other Asian - beauty cultures, that sort of have been influenced by Western civilization. In France, they are utterly lethal about a girl's image; the most beautiful French girl must have the three-things-beauty diet (This is literally the case of a pear for breakfast, a banana for lunch, and a piece of bread for dinner with a bottle of water at each meal) and have the body measurements of 32-24-32. It's lethal really. But, it's not always necessarily a detriment. Girls and Boys can be whatever shape they want. As it is, I'm a small Welshwoman with a monobrow - I have to get onto that, I swear I have to pluck the little bastard hairs out, it's like a Neanderthal throwback gene with me - that always has to hem up her jeans. People are born as we are, but we always change a bit to be as we desire. Last chapter, in the notes, I talked about how people change, and how it is a anthropological naturalism that we consistently evolutionise and change throughout our lives. We can't go without it; we simply just can't do without it. 
> 
> Anyway, with Coco, I wanted to give something different. Skye and Star are quite happy; they're portrayed as being cool like Fonzey. They're happy with their classcism Italian make-up and peter-pan collared blouses, but a lot more of this culture plays back in with Summer, which will come to be shown.
> 
> Another thing in this chapter too is Cristina Dontraeovsky's on-going grief - and what will be - on-going grief over Jisoo. It's not quite a case of unrequited love, or sexual relationship; I've quite purposely made it vague. I've written the scenes where they sleep together - just sleep together - but how they kissed at the party in front of Jeonghan, and Cristina Dontraeovsky slept naked beside Jisoo in his bed, and how he was alright with it. As the chapters have progress, I've also opened up on just how involved she is in all of their lives, and how she came to be involved, and how her involvement in interpreted by all the others. 
> 
> And Seokmin. Giving into Jisoo.
> 
> Well...that's the explanation in itself.


	9. Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moon invites Jisoo and Seokmin and the whole gang gown for Christmas by the sea - which is complicated by the living being of Cristina Dontraeovsky, who has been the woman of the house for the past four years. Cristina Dontraeovsky seduces Wonwoo in her studio, and Jisoo falls in with Seokmin while Moon's family tries to sort out a hellfire situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't quite a full chapter; it's more like a bit of a break before the Christmas Chapter - which is mind-bollocking huge! The song mentioned in this chapter also is "The Last Day On Earth" is by Kate Miller-Heidke fIrom her 2008 album Curiouser  
> I wanted to write some quite intent intimacy between Cristina Dontraeovsky and Wonwoo, and I wanted to write in some happy sort of chaos - something is quite sweet to read, if you will

Jisoo didn't hear much from Moon for the next working-week as she tried to help out the ebst she could with Summer's horror situation which then had become the whole family's horror situation, also juggling her three jobs. There was the potential that Skye and Star would have to be home-schooled - and home-schooled by their Grandmother and Jim as their Mother and Wonpil were too busy with the B&B and tourism business - and there was no way in hell that Coco would be accepted into the high-school come her time if the rest of the town, and their connections had anything to do with it. 

  
It was only a few days off Christmas when Moon rang him up and asked if he wanted to come down to the sea.

  
Jisoo nearly shit himself. He was in the kitchen cooking dinner with Seokmin, and the phone was on loudspeaker. Seokmin was translating Jisoo's silence for Moon. Jisoo had insisted on her calling rather than texting; she never left the room to speak to him, and in the background the sounds of her Grandmother and Jim watching a quiz could be heard, along with Coco playing around with her dolls - she refused to give them up for an Iphone like "all the other ugly bitches who are so grown up 'cause "Oh, I have to wear period pads and a bra!" now have" - with Summer on the floor. The matter that Coco didn't want a new phone was a joy to everyone else, as Coco would undoubtedly put the bill through the roof. She didn't have a thing for boundaries. Moon's Mum was singing as she cooked and danced around with Wonpil - who she was completely in love with - and Skye and Star were sewing up holes in Jim's old cardiagans and jumpers because he won't buy new pairs while they listened to a BTS album. Jisoo liked hearing what went on in Moon's house, and he wanted Seokmin to hear what went on in Moon's house too. Between he - mainly himself - he hadn't given Seokmin the impression that Moon was a cool young woman.

  
Naked young woman, more to a point, as far as impression went. 

  
_No you're fucking not, what about Cristina Dontraeovsky?_ Seokmin hissed, wide-eyed and genuinely fucking terrified at her reaction.

  
 _You lot go to Cristina Dontraeovsky's, I'll go to Moons -_ Jisoo started, but was broken off by Seokmin.

  
_No, no, no, you know it doesn't work like that. Moon's your girlfriend - yeah, fair enough - but Cristina Dontraeovsky was Hansol's internet friend who then merged in with all of us because you two virtually became a married couple_

  
Jisoo scoffed.

  
 _Where she is concerned, you virtually are married - I'm not picking a fight, here, I'm saying the truth. and she doesn't know about moon, right? none of us have said a thing! And now - if she finds out that her favourite guy in the world is dumping her to go down to the beach with his new girlfriend - no, no, no, no, no!_ Seokmin was now shouting, but it was silent. 

  
_Fine, we'll tell Cristina Dontraeovsky about how I'm with Moon now and I'm spending Christmas with Moon,_ Jisoo responded.

  
"Guys, you can come down too!" Moon said. "When I said "You lot" - that's what I meant. Seokmin, Hansol, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Seungcheol." 

  
Jisoo looked slowly between the phone and Seokmin. _What's this?_ He asked. _He hadn't told Moon about...any of them._ He stared at Seokmin.

  
 _What did you do when she was up here before Summer had the worst day of her life?_ Jisoo asked.

  
"Moon, we'll call you back! Jisoo's got me on his hit list!" Seokmin said, before canceling the call. 

  
All in all, it took about twenty minutes to explain what happened last Sunday - before all hell broke loose for Summer and the rest of the family.

  
 _Fucking Jeonghan!_ Jisoo exclaimed, his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the bench by the stove. _Why the hell do you all do stuff behind my back?_

  
_Funny that, because you've got a pretty interesting habit of doing the same thing_

  
Seokmin nearly laughed. Jisoo couldn't continue the row because he knew he didn't have a foot left to stand on. Seokmin smiled quite happily, and re-called Moon. Then, it was Jisoo's turn to grin as it was answered on the third ring by Coco. The certified family nutter that Seokmin was now going to witness first hand. 

  
"'LO, FLOWER-BOY? WHATCHA THINK YOU'RE DOIN'?!" Coco bellowed down the line, before making a noise like a cow in labour. 

  
_That's the little one, the youngest sister, Coco. She's eleven and a quarter,_ Jisoo told Seokmin.

  
 _Is she mental?_ Seokmin inquired. Jisoo nodded.

  
 _No, no, actually mental?_ Seokmin said.

  
Jisoo nodded.

  
 _Schizophrenic mental?!_ Seokmin nearly threw the phone across the kitchen in frustration, trying to get his point across.

  
Jisoo shook his head.

  
"CAT CUT YOUR TONGUE OUT?!" Coco made the bizarre bellowing-cum-grunting-cum-sniffing noise again. It sounded like she was sniffing dynamite powder, of all things.  
Jisoo got the phone and gave a loud exhale towards the speaker, then snapped his fingers five times.

  
"Oh, hey Jisoo." A very sweet voice answered. "Who was Moonie talking to earlier? It wasn't you. We could hear on the speaker it was another dude's voice." A sudden intake of breath followed. "Oh, no, she's got another boyfriend!" The last statement sounded like Coco was announcing the end of the world.

  
Jisoo snapped his fingers another five times, and typed on the screen.

  
"Ok, ok, I'll get you Moon - why are you typing when we're talkin' - oh..." Coco trailed off. "Sorry, Seokmin, friend of Jisoo's. Who was translating."

  
"That's alright." Seokmin said to her. _I guess,_ he added to Jisoo.

  
"So...Moon hasn't got a new boyfriend?" Coco asked.

  
"No she's hasn't." Seokmin replied. 

  
"BAD BABY!" Moon's voice suddenly howled. "I COULD KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH! JISOO CAN'T SPEAK BUT THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH HIS HEARING! MUM SAYS YOU'RE GROUNDED, AND YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO SEE THE SHEEP! JIM AND WONPIL WILL FEED THEM!"

  
Coco called Moon something so despicable that it made Seokmin and Jisoo piss themselves laughing.

  
 _Oh my God!_ Jisoo clutched his chest, unable to breath, crouching down on the floor with one hand holding onto the bench. Seokmin was lying on the floor with his hands covering his face.

  
 _I love this kid!_ Seokmin managed to say before he nearly died again. 

  
"Jisoo, are you there?" Moon eventually came to the phone.

  
"Moon, we have to tell you something. You didn't meet all our friends. One of them is a Russian artist called Cristina Dontraeovsky. She's very close to all of us, and she's been a friend of ours for years. We usually have Christmas and everything at her place, or she cooks at our place. Except, she'll kill you if we tell her about you, because she doesn't know about you, ok?" Seokmin told Moon.

  
"Oh, I'm sure we can all come together and be happy." Moon said postively.

  
It suddenly occurred to Jisoo that Moon was sweet, but very, very stupid. What part of "Russian" did she not get?

  
"Come up for Christmas, all of you." Moon insisted. "Everything will be wonderful."

  
Twenty minutes later when she hung up again, the first thing Jisoo said was, _No. Don't come. Please. All of you stay down here with Cristina Dontraeovsky. you love her - deep down. it won't work otherwise. just stay and keep it normal here because I just have to go to moon's, alright? you know I -_ he moved his hands about in the air frantically.

  
 _I know, I know._ Seokmin said. _Look, we're going to have to tell her, alright? Call her up - she has to come around in person._ Seokmin paused. _Why hasn't she being around? Actually...why the fuck haven't we wondered about anything that's going on?_

\------------------

"How long?" Wonwoo asked.

  
"A day's work." Cristina Dontraeovsky moved about her huge studio space; it was all black painted walls, stripped floorboards, and a mural painted on the ceiling, like a Garden of Eden without God, Adam and Eve. Instead, a couple of naked Korean ladies with long hair were running about with apples and pears and lounging against trees with fey lights woven in-between the branches. She had on a blue long-sleeved wrap-waist top, a calf-length black denim skirt, leather boots, a diamond necklace, and her hair in a chignon at the base of her neck. From her red lipstick mouth dangled a cigarette in a black 1920's holder, edged with pure gold. "About five or six hours?" She gazed at him across the space as she moved rolls of sewing fabric and furntire, the proposition hanging in the air in-between them. She looked him up and down slowly. "Or, rather...a night's work?" She added delicately.

  
With Wonwoo and her pushing, they moved a square, and white-box-like coffee table into the centre of the studio; Wonwoo found the piece of furniture was actually a podium, but Cristina Dontraeovsky regarded it as multi-purpose. Half an hour later, they were set. For two hours, the Russian woman painted as they talked quietly about nothing and everything and anything; varying degrees at all. Cristina Dontraeovsky could paint all styles, but he favourite style was knife-paint style. The thickness and the three-dimentionality of the knife-style was something that inspired her and elevated her. Therefore, she made her art like that.

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky hummed, a cake-decorating knife used a painting tool in her hand, a cigarette in the black ebony and gold holder dangling from her dark red mouth. "Didn't they tell you I was a monster with black hair and Russian accent?" She inquired, her glasses making her look even more beautiful. They had got to talking about her entrance into their lives four years ago.

  
"From the first time I saw you I knew you were pretty savage." Wonwoo said. "I didn't realize how kind you were - and how good you were - until Jisoo started to change. He put on some weight, got less sad. He was more alive." Wonwoo hesitated. "He wasn't scared anymore."

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky walked out from behind the huge canvas slowly, her heels a click on the floor, smoke blowing from her mouth. She looked at him as he looked at her.

  
"Why -" She said. Each word became a step closer to Wonwoo on the moss-green fabric chair on the white podium. " - did - we - never - fall - into - this - before? You - and - I - just - ourselves? It's - so - right - isn't - it?" Finally, she stood directly before him. Wonwoo didn't lean down to touch her, to give into her, like so much of his body wanted him too. His brain and his thoughts were like a curse upon him.

  
"You and Jisoo were like lovers." Wonwoo said. "All that sex, that intimacy, knowing each other, fixing each other. How you are about him, and he about you. How many times has it been? The two of you?"

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky exhaled cigarette smoke. "You're scared of being the second one? Some sort of cast off. You get lonely, but you're scared and you're angry of being cast away and seen as pathetic because you're truly not, the feelings just come and get you sometimes. The day...I hit Seokmin because he suggested a counsellor for Jisoo? You liked how much I riled up, and said what scum they were that tore families apart. They're all vermin who have something wrong with them themselves, playing God and they're just vritual predators, extorting and making mroe regret for anyone than anything else in the world? You love how I hate goody-goody's...all this Russian viciousness in it me comes out. You don't really want me. But you want something of me. You want what I was suppose to give Jisoo before I gave him more."

  
Both Cristina Dontraeovsky and Wonwoo stood and sat there, immeasurably quite inside. 

\--------------

_She's not picking up,_ Seokmin said as he tried to ring her from Jisoo's phone. _Just send her a text so she knows nothing is an emergency._

  
Jisoo nodded, before exclaiming - half lost in his own head - _This is an emergency!_

\---------------

Cristina Dontraeovsky coaxed Wonwoo down from the chair on the podium, and dropping her cigarette in it's holder down to the floorboards without a care in the world, they began to slow-dance about the wood and the black and the naked mural of the studio ceiling above them. As a rhythm for them to dance too and to fill in a note quite beautiful silence, Cristina Dontraeovsky sung, and as she swung, her hands broke away from Wonwoo's every little bit and then, taking off her clothes as they danced and she sung, not breaking the beat for a second.

  
 _"In my head I replay our conversations over and over just like hallucinations..."_ Her glasses came off with her wrap-waist top and her hair fell down out of it's claw-grip comb.

 _"You know me..."_ Off came her bra and then her skirt; it pooled down around on legs on the floor but she stepped out of it neatly, coming back to Wonwoo's arms as her voice floated through the air.

 _"I love to lose my mind..."_ She gazed up at him, before her boots and her tights came off as well. _"And every time anybody speaks your name I still feel the same_

  
 _I ache, I ache, I ache inside..."_ Cristina Dontraeovsky removed her knickers, the final bit of clothing she had on. Her hands came back up to Wonwoo's, and they continued to dance.

  
_I ache, I ache, I ache inside_

  
_I ache, I ache, I ache inside_

  
_I ache, I ache, I ache inside..."_

\-----------------

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Cristina Dontraeovsky screamed the next day - ten in the morning - before crouching down to the floor in a flood of tears, her hands pressed to her face. Her phone had been tosses thirteen meteres to the other side of the studio space, and her stomach and chest twisted violently as she sobbed.

  
She'd never considered that Jisoo would move on from her, find someone else. If she was some sort of God, how could any other girl measure up and get him away from her? If she was the best woman, the coolest woman, was he suddenly interested in shit or what?

  
Jisoo was beautiful, but he was a bastard. Cristina Dontraeovsky hated and hated and hated him, all throughout the day and into the night.

  
Wonwoo hated her, her Grandfather hated her for not being in Russia enough - hanging about with faggots in Korea - and now Jisoo hated her.

  
None of them were ever going to speak to her again. None of them would ever want to remember her existence ever again.

\--------------

Jisoo messily fucked Seokmin in the bath, water slopping over the sides and their skin slapping together equally as loudly. Jisoo was high, but he wanted Seokmin to make him higher. 

\---------------

Hansol stared up at his bedroom ceiling. Everything was peaceful but he had this feeling that something was going to happen. A couple of minutes later, his phone rang. It was his favourite downtime, Kang Irene.

  
"Want to come around?" She asked him. Within five minutes Hansol had his hoodie and the condoms and was in his ute. He knew anyone would laugh if he said the thought of Irene whacking them in her shopping basket made him uncomfortable; it was because of him they needed them, so they agreed that he'd get them. Irene had thought it was funny. Hansol had explained to her he wasn't trying to insult her or women in general, but she broke off and said that she thought he was so cool. Hansol loved being around her. They weren't properly together, but that was alright. At least she was in her life, and Hansol just knew that she wasn't lying when she said she didn't sleep around with anyone else. 

  
Hansol wasn't quite in love with her, but he thought she was cool too.

\-----------------

Wonwoo came home to his silent house. He went upstairs, and fished about in a draw. He found what he was looking for. It was a sketch that Jisoo had done for him one day when he was half-pissed, and Hansol was trying to figure out some idea he had about re-cycling wine bottles for firecrackers. It showed a baby victoriously waving it's fist in the air with a "come and bring it on!" expression. The caption beneath was "WHEN THINGS ARE SHIT BUT WE'RE HAPPY".

  
Wonwoo chuckled to himself. One the back was a tiny sentence - written in miniscule writing - by Jisoo's drunken hand. Wonwoo liked to think that something else more played out when Jisoo wrote down that sentence, but he knew otherwise. Jisoo was just drunk.

  
_Love you, sexy_


	10. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Day for Jisoo, Moon, her family Cristina Dontraeovsky, Wonwoo, Hansol and Seokmin.
> 
> The songs featured in this chapter is "Paris" by The 1975, a Danish pagan song, a Russian pagan song, "I Touch Myself" by The Divinyl's, "What If I Told You That I Love You" - is the name of the song but I can't find the artist -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHRISTMAS TIME! In this work, anyhow. The Russian Winter Harvest menu is quite alike the rest of Europe and England's - it's a massive feast of meat, vegetables, and, most importantly of all, ten ton of plonk. Every sort imaginable. Bobourn, Vodka, Rum, Rose, White Wine, Red Wine, Beer, Cocktails, Armangnac and Tequila. 
> 
> Trust me, most people are pissheads at Christmas time, but Russians really top the mark.
> 
> Danish are barely any better either, but, frankly, they're pissed 24/7 those ones, Jesus Christ!
> 
> This song too is "I Touch Myself" by The Divinyl's. There were a Australian rock-band - past-tense as their lead singer Chrissie Amphlett died from cancer in 2015 at the age of 53, which was a miracle, seeing as she did all the works, drugs, alcohol, everything - and their album which I believe is called "Sex" was released in 1990. 
> 
> This is one of my Dad's favourite songs, and I like it too. Even though it's a song about the desperation of sex and love, eroticism, and female masturbation, no one quite sees it like this. People hear the song and their like, 'EY! CHRISSIE AMPHLETT'S ON THE PLAYER! LET'S GROOVE!" And that's genuinely it. There's no politics or shit-canning; everyone gets up and dances and has fun. Everyone's laughing. Everyone's smiling and happy.
> 
> It's just so cool
> 
> Now, as for the matter of "The Sound Of Music". The altered lyrics in this work come from my dear old Dad. When I was about seven - and a notoriously deep sleeper - he stick his head in through my bedroom door, sneak in, whoosh open the curtains and bellow out this song about the hills being alive with the sound of - put it this way, it wasn't bloody music, that's for sure

It was Christmas day within a blink of an eye. Out of kindness, Hansol called up Cristina Dontraeovsky. She was his internet friend-cum-stress-reliver-cum-general-support, then she became his closest girl-friend - like another sister to him - to him first before she was anything to Jisoo. In the end, Jisoo had best as just used her. It felt like that with all of them. Wonwoo had Christmas with his own family, Hansol's sister and family were all the way over in America, and Seokmin had canceled plans with his Mum because they all thought that it was would a gang feast and party at Cristina Dontraeovsky's or Hansol's, as it always was. Cristina Dontraeovsky cooked her food as beautifully as she always did; with here, there was no such thing as undercooked poultery or tough and dry beef roast; there was no such thing as soggy vegetables, or a cake that had inwardly collapsed in on itself. She did a turkey and two chickens from scratch, steamed eight different vegetables - potatoes, carrots, pumpkin, sprouts, beans, peas, corn, and cabbage - with a fresh salad on the side - traditionally French, all iceberg lettuce, cucumber, celery, tomatoe, onion, lemon juice, salt and pepper - with a proper Russian dry-fruit pudding and a rum'n'raisin cake on the side. She added on fresh loaves of bread she cooked herself, and had bought a truck-load of grog. 

  
They mostly just drank. Seokmin was on the phone to his family for an hour, as was Hansol, talking to his sister and parents. Wonwoo came at half-two. All of his family were dead to the world in the sitting room, apparently.

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky was surprised. She thought Wonwoo hated her guts; thought she was mental. Either he didn't, or he was just putting in appearence for Hansol and Seokmin.

  
He came to sit down on the couch beside her in the studio space; they had come down to chill there, instead of being up in her actual house/apartment area of the industrial structure. 

  
The Russian woman's heart swelled up as he smiled at her and said, "Hey."

  
"Spasiba." She replied, leaning into his side, and he held her. Tears leaked out of her eyes; she missed Jisoo terribly and painfully, but Wonwoo was lovely.

  
"I like your cigarette smell...smell." Wonwoo told her. Her head angled up to look at him.

  
"Can you just talk?" Cristina Dontraeovsky asked. "I love the sound of your voice; just talk about any old crap."

  
All the while, Hansol and Seokmin were on the other couches. There was three, arranged in nearly a square shape, but there wasn't a fourth couch to make the fourth side. In the centre of a proper white coffee-table with a vase of flowers, a bowl of fruit, and ten bottles of wine on it. With a few beers.

  
"Hey," Cristina Dontraeovsky's hand pressed against his chest. Wonwoo was wearing a black jumper. "Sing Lewis Capaldi. Or Elvis. Or Harry Styles."

  
"Or Tits sings one of her songs." Seokmin used Cristina Dontraeovsky's nickname; one of them, anyway.

  
Tits laughed. "Actually, they're not really out today." She checked down at her bust, all skin concealed in a tight black turtleneck with ripped denim shorts and blue tights with white stripes, like a coco-chanel breton top. They all laughed. 

  
Hansol thought Cristina Dontraeovsky was getting along quite happily, seeing how shit everything was. Wonwoo grinned suddenly.

  
"I've got an idea; it's one of my Dad's favourite songs." He said. He whispered into Cristina Dontraeovsky's ear. She let out a cackle, lighting up.

  
"I'll get my electric guitar, then we can dance!" She exclaimed, nearly singing herself.

\-----------------

Fucking hell, could Moon, Summer, Skye, Star and Coco's Mother cook.

  
They had sat down to eat Christmas lunch in what was usually the B&B's dining and tea-rooms. It was a huge, beautiful space with red velvet curtains, darkly polished wooden floorboards, a vaulted ceiling, a huge granite-stone block fireplace in the centre of the space that you could park a couple of motor cycles inside the hearth, and gorgeous views out to the fields and the sea.

  
Summer looked down at her plate quietly, pushing a clutter of perfectly cooked peas around. "Sorry, Mum, I just can't do it." She said equally as quiet as her whole aura.

  
"Hey, baby, try to have some." Their Mother implored.

  
"We know you feel like crap, love." Wonpil said. "But living on tea won't do any good for you, sweetheart."

  
Jisoo suddenly felt like a coarse intruder on the highly intimate family scene.

  
"Oh, don't bully the poor girl!" Jim barked briskly. "Come on, my dear." He reached over and took her plate. He was wearing a blue and white checked button up shirt that was open at the colour, a light grey cardigan, and nice denim jeans in a orange paper hat from a bon-bon and his good old red slippers. "Who wants to eat mushy damned peas when you can get onto that gorgeous bloody chicken?" he pointed a knife over at the roasted glory their Mother had served up. Everyone laughed, including Summer. Jisoo felt quite sorry for her.

  
"I'll have some of that." She managed timidly. 

  
"Good girl." Mother and Grandmother praised as Coco got up and inistsed on carving duties.

  
"Careful, there, honey." Wonpil got up to help her, but she insisted she was fine.

  
"I thought you liked animals." Star said. She and Skye had on identical brown eye-makeup, red lipstick, thick filled-in brows, and tweed skirt with jumpers combo; Star's skirt was a light brown with a dark red jumper, and Skye's was a maroon skirt with a grey jumper. They both had on grey knitted tights and brown leather Doc Martens. Wonpil and Mother had granted they were old enough now at fifteen-and-three-quarters to have a bit of a heel on their shoes - which the girls rejoiced at. 

  
"Yeah, but vegetarians fucking suck!" Coco scoffed. Jisoo pressed his hand to his mouth, trying not to piss himself laughing as the rest of the girls, plus Grandmother and Jim, cracked up with hysterical laughter, and Wonpil lost the plot too while Mother told Coco off for her "filthy language".

  
"Love you, baby!" Moon raised a glass of champagne in a toast to her little sister, before kissing Jisoo on the cheek. 

  
They all ate in a cheerful, holiday-induced intimacy; all of them interacted and talked with Jisoo effortlessly, as thought he wasn't mute. Moon translated for him a few times, but most of the time a shake of his head, a nod, a smile, a grimace, or a movement of his hand was enough communication for responses to questions and comments.

  
Jisoo gazed at Summer for a couple of seconds - barely noticeable - as she got up from her seat and walked around the table to say something to her Mother and Wonpil. Summer looked beautiful, graceful and willowy, in a white dress with 1/2 sleeves, and a collared neck with a button-up front and a calf-length skirt; the white dress was patterned with violets that looked like watercolour paintings on the fabric. Her black hair was pulled back into a thick plait, before that plait was wrapped around her skull in a crown, and fixed into a bun at the base of her skull. Wisps of it fell around her so gently, and her make-up was delicately done; just mascara, blush, blush on her eyelids, and a tiny bit of colour on her mouth, a nude pink. She was indescribably lovely.

  
Perhaps it was the sadness in her already gentle, quiet aura that made her absolute illuminate, Jisoo didn't quite know. But...he looked at her and he was reminded of himself. That was it. He couldn't explain it; it was just how he felt.

  
The rest of the day flew by quick. Before long, It was five 'o' clock, and families who didn't hate them all and knew that Summer wasn't a lesbian came around for drinks and music and a movie marathon; neighbouring farmers with their wives and late-adolescent sons, the estate agent who had sold them the land for the B&B property back in the early 2000's, along with Wonpil's two best mates and their families, plus the girl's Mother's three best friends, and some of Coco's girls she knew from kindergarten, now a fair few years ago. 

  
The tables had been moved out of the B&B's guest tea rooms and ining rooms, opening the space up. The adults stood about and chattered while Wonpil and his mates were left to decide the movies to be shown for that night in the guest sitting room, instead of their tiny private one in their pruvate house attached to the B&B. Jisoo was standing and nodding along and smiling with Moon as she talked to a angular and gawky looking guy called Harry, who was the son of Jim's nephew. Across the crowd of girls and guys a few years younger than him and their parents and other family, Jisoo looked over their head and found Summer's figure. She was leaning against the door off to the hallway of the family's pruvate residence, with a glass flute of white wine in hand. She was like this beautiful flower, a walking deity, that people admired and smiled at and talked about, but no one touched her. It was enough to destroy anyone. Jisoo felt his chest clench as a single tear rolled down Summer's face, and no one else in the world was aware of it. And what could he do? He couldn't speak. And, besides, he was Moon's boyfriend anyway.

  
 _This is getting out of control again. You're getting out of control again,_ a voice in the back of his head said. _You can't do this. You need to stop doing this. You need to stop, Jisoo. It can't keep going on, and you using yourself as an excuse, when it's you that causes the problem_

  
A English song played on a CD player by a dresser. Jisoo recognised it as a slowed down version, but it only made him love it more.

_"What if I told you that I love you?_

  
_Would you tell me that you love me back?_

  
_What if I told you that I miss you?_

  
_Would you tell me that you miss me back?_

  
_What if I told you that I need you (need you)_

  
_Would you tell me that you need me, yeah?_

  
_If I tell you all my feelings (feelings) would you believe me, yeah?"_

  
Jisoo swallowed, and wondered if he could get away with excusing himself from Moon to go and talk to Summer. They were sisters after all, but their youngest sister, Coco, had had to make that comment. If he ever broke up he would go straight for Summer. No. That wasn't how it was working. That wasnt how it was going to work. He just wanted to make sure she was ok, even though she obviously wasn't ok. And him asking her and her giving him a fake answer wouldn't making things better, but it would make him feel better, and he wouldn't feel like such a cheat. Because that's what he was, what he ultimately was. He was a cheat. And a liar. And a back-stabber. And how many times had he fucked around, now? Too many times to remember. Too many times to count.

  
_"What if I told you that I_

  
_lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love you?_

  
_Yeah ."_

  
_Moon,_ Jisoo said, touching her shoulder. _I'll be back in a minute,_ he said. Moon nodded and smiled, kissing his cheek. She went back to talking to Jim's nephew's son, Harry, and she didn't notice as he slipped in-between the people and across the other side of the room to Summer.

  
_"What if I told you that I_

  
_lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love you?_

  
_What if I told you that I need you (need you, need you)_

  
_Would you tell me that you need me, too?"_

  
_Hey, how are you doing?_ Jisoo asked Summer. She looked up from her feet and the floorboards, lost in her own little world. She hadn't noticed his mouth move - or him at all - until she had felt a index and middle fingers press against her temple in the gentlest, most fleeting touch. Summer blushed despite her sadness; even though she knew that Jisoo moved and did little things like that to communicate, she couldn't help how her soul reacted to it. 

  
_"What if I told you that I_

  
_Lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love you?_

  
_Ayy_

  
_When you told me that you love me_

  
_Was I a fool to believe in you?"_

  
He was so attractive to a boot as well, but it was also the point that she was being touched at all. She was sure that no one pair creeps had ever desired her in all the years she had been alive and had been beautiful. And Jisoo was beautiful, and he was so close to her.

  
 _Are you alright?_ He asked her.

_"When you told me I was special..._

  
_Was I dumb for trusting you?_

  
_When you told me that you want me..."_

  
Summer's eyes involountarily watered up all on their own.

  
_"Did you really want me?_

  
_Or was this all a joke to you? (to you, to you)_

  
_I don't wanna say, "I miss you"_

  
_If I don't know that you miss me back (oh no, no)_

  
_I don't wanna say the wrong thing..._

  
_If I do, there's no coming back..."_

  
_Oh, Summer, I'm sorry for what happened,_ Jisoo told her. He wasn't sure she could even understand him properly as she wiped her eyes and nose on the back of her hand, and her head ducked as she sobbed silently, and he was left standing there. He saw a few of the men look at him, and he felt himself freeze. He wouldn't put it past any of them to smack him, and accuse him of making her cry. In a way, he had best of had.

  
_"What if I told you that I need you (need you)_

  
_Would you tell me that you need me?_

  
_Yeah._

  
_If I told you all my feelings (feelings)_

  
_Would you believe me, yeah?"_

  
"I'm so sorry." Summer sniffed. "I'm an absolute mess at the moment." She chuckled, but halfway through came a sob. She smoothed some of her hair behind her ear, and looked so regretful and ashamed of herself, that Jisoo touched the tip of her nose. She looked up at him incredibly shyly, haunted black eyes searching his face, trying to figure him out.

  
 _I'm sorry,_ Jisoo said. _I'm not trying to hurt you. I just want to see you. I can tell you're not ok_

  
_"What if I told you that I_

  
_Lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love you?_

  
_Yeah_

  
_What if I told you that I_

  
_Lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love you?"_

  
Summer didn't make a single sound as she gazed up at him, her fingertips still touching that place behind her ear where she had smoothed her hair back.

  
_"I wish I told you that I loved you..._

  
_Now it's too late, you have someone new_

  
_I hope he loves you like I do..._

  
_Do you love the way he's treating you?"_

  
Jisoo saw Summer's throat move as she swallowed, more tears coming down her face. Then before he had time to comprehend it, she had slipped away from him down the main hall to their private area of the B&B.

  
_"What if I told you that I love you?_

  
_Would you tell me that you love me back?_

  
_If I told you that iImiss you...would you tell me that you miss me back?_

  
_What if I told you that I need you?_

  
_Would you tell me that you need me, yeah?_

_If I tell you all my feelings...would you believe me, yeah?"_

  
Jisoo made his way back towards where he had left Moon, but she wasn't about anymore. Instead, he was left there with Skye.

\-----------------

Cristina Dontraeovsky played out a cool and sparked eightie's style guitar rhythm on her electric guitar, the guitar played old-style, the body slung low across her hips as her left hand effortlessly went up and down the string board. _"I love myself,"_ She started off the song, singing mid-tone and atrractive in English. _"I want you to love me."_

  
 _"When I feel down, I want you above me."_ Wonwoo grinned as he sung also in English, tapping the space in-between Cristina Dontraeovsky's eyebrows to annoy her, but not make her lose the guitar rhythm. Hansol laughed, recognizing the sort of song it was going to be.

  
"It's familiar but I haven't heard it for years!" He said. Seokmin - not understanding the English - sort of smiled around, enjoying it in the way you only could with foreign music.

  
 _"I search myself,"_ Cristina Dontraeovsky started to sing it in Korean. _"I want you to find me."_

  
 _"I forget myself, I want you to remind me."_ Wonwoo took the next line, and they both manically swayed their hips in a nutter dance as it came to the chorus, and the stringboard of the electric guiatar was utterly fucking strangled for a moment.

  
 _"I don't want anybody else, when I think about you I touch myself,"_ Wonwoo and Cristina Dontraeovsky sung together, and when it was time, Hansol, recognizing the song further gave a oh-woah-oh vocalization. _"I don't want anybody else, oh no, oh no, oh no."_

  
"This is disgusting." Seokmin announced, though he was laughing and grinning.

  
"Well, we're not singing Elvis!" Cristina Dontraeovsky announced, kicking up a white and blue tighted leg towards him, not losing the guitar rhythm for a second. Wonwoo took up the second verse.

  
 _"You're the one who makes me come running. You're the sun that makes me shine."_ He winked at Cristina Dontraeovsky, and Hansol mimed throwing up while Seokmin got up and started to groove for the sakes of it, and then bullied Hansol into it, tugging at his shirt. 

  
"Hey, hey, hey! It's my favourite shirt, don't stretch it!" Hansol yelped.

  
_"When you're around, I'm always laughing; I want to make you mine."_

  
_"I close my eyes and I see you before me -"_ Cristina Dontraeovsky nearly fucked up her part as the rhythm of the song changed a bit, and to get into the tone, Hansol imitated a highly sexual waltz, before Seokmin went that step further and groped - or rather, clawed - Wonwoo's bum. _"Think I would die if you were to ignore me."_ Cristina Dontraeovsky swung her hips around in slow circles, turning up on her toes; Hansol wolf-whistled, and both Seokmin and Wonwoo smacked him for being a dirty bugger. _"A fool could see just how much I adore you. I'd get down on my knees, I would do anything for you."_

  
This time, as Cristina and Wonwoo sang the chorus, Hansol and Seokmin joined in but it was ruined for the added to because three words in, Hansol began to piss himself laughing and sank back down to the couch that he and Seokmin had previously been occupying. 

  
"Oh, enough of this!" Cristina Dontraeovsky suddenly yelled. "Let's do a proper rock song. Fuck, need Vlad and Ivan -"

  
"No we don't, they can fuck off!" Hansol replied.

  
She laughed. "Oh, they're like my big brothers, those two." She said, trying to be a little bit heartbroken.

  
"Oh, my aching heart bleeds." Hansol rolled his eyes, and suddenly Wonwoo was doubled over. Hansol didn't think he was actually being that funny; maybe all the drink was finally starting to get to them.

  
"Hey, you know what we're goanna do?" He said aloud. "Cristina's goanna do us a fucking good rock song, then we're going to get some of her food out the fridge, sit down, eat it of course, and watch whatever shit is playing on the TV."

  
"Oh no." Cristina Dontraeovsky said. "You didn't say my name properly and you know what will be on the tv?" She looked at them all in horror. "The Sound Of Music" with Korean subtitles."

  
"THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF FARTS!" Hansol sung out his re-take version. "SOME OF THE BIGGEST FARTS I HAVE EVER SMELT IN MY LIFE!"

\---------------

Four very big things happened. Nearly all of them were caused by either Coco, or sheer bloody fate.

  
1\. The CD player - which fell to the floor and buggered up well internally - also scratching the CD disc - when she crashed backwards into the dresser it was sitting on because she had been playing a game of tug-and-war - un-noticed by the adults - with one of her Mother's silk scarves. Largely the reason they're inevitably diasterous came was un-noticed, because little girls do as little girls do, and most of the adults had gone into the sitting room. Wonpil and his mates - even though a hour and half had gone by - were stuck on options of "Lord Of The Rings" so the kids could watch it with them, "Mad Max" - "Definitely not, Moon had nightmares when she saw the opening two minutes of Mad Max 3." He argued - and something else, but by then Jisoo couldn't have given the remotest fuck.

  
2\. The sheep invasion. Partly caused by Coco, partly caused by the lack of parents, partly caused by any of the adolescents and early-twenties lack of maturity and intelligent, and partly caused because things just have to get a wee bit chaotic on Christmas day, don't they? Jisoo couldn't find Moon about anywhere. When Summer had disappeared earlier, and he had ended up only finding Skye, she had told him that Moon had gone down to one of the barns to help someone "clear their head".

  
Or rather, vomit up all the alcohol until they weren't so drunk they were over the legal driving limit. Jisoo nodded and thanked her, getting that sorted. Then Star came over.  
"Why did you make Summer cry?" She accused him. 

  
"No, no, no!" Skye jumped in front of Jisoo, protecting him from her identical twin. "He didn't make her cry!"

  
 _I think I accidentally did,_ Jisoo said.

  
Skye and Star both looked at him. "What?" Both their brows creased identically, and their mouths went the same way; the symmetry was incredible.

  
"He said something." Star quipped.

  
"I know he said something, I heard him breath." Skye snapped. She looked at him. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. We're acting like the Gestapo, I'm so sorry." Suddenly, both Skye and Star gave him a hug, wished him "Happy Christmas", and then they went off to find Wonpil.

  
 _Jesus fucking Christ,_ Jisoo thought of Moon's family. All of a sudden, Jim appeared into the space, in his dressing gown, pyjamas, and a beanie, with his not-often-used walking stick in tow.

  
"We're being invaded! We're being invaded!" He yelled out withered and melodramatically, in only a way that old men had.

  
"It's not world war two you bloody idiot!" One of the farmer's shouted out.

  
"OH THE FUCKING THING IS SHITTING IN THE HALLWAY!" Grandmother audibly crowed. Everyone rushed to see. Coco's sheep had gotten out of their pen, and had got in through the open French doors coming off the back garden; they had gone all the way through the private area of the house, knocking over furniture and crashing into cupboards with expensive china in them, plus scraping painted walls, before appearing downstairs inside the actual B&B, heading for the sound of the party...just as Grandmother and Jim were getting ready for bed. They had no intention to stay up all night with ten dozen people, watching films they didn't understand with actors they didn't know.

  
The sheep just resided out in the field. There was a gate stopping them from coming near the B&B itself...however, a perfectly good gate was no use when there was a broken fence - as Coco and all of her deliriously happy friends found as they herded the sheep back down from the house to the fields, with lanterns and torches in tow.

  
3\. Moon twisted her ankle in the field by the barn, then had to be towed back to the B&B by Coco...with several pet ducks.

  
"LOOK AT BUBBY!" Star hollered all of a sudden, and the whole Christmas party looked over to where up the garden path from the barn, Coco was pulling Moon along in the fire-wood trailer, a lantern held up in air above her, and the sound of Coco singing - awfully - with...most of her feathered friends following behind her. Grandmother and Mother opened the window and screamed down to her. All of the other teenagers and early twenties in the room - who were direct descendants of the family - let out a "wha-hey!" cheer. This scared the living shit out of the ducks who scattered wildly; Moon was further injured when one of the fucking things crashed into her as it took off in the dark, and then when one crashed into Coco's lower half, she dropped the handle of the trailer, slumping it down to the ground with an almighty crash.

  
"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" Wonpil roared, and went outside to rescue his step-daughters with his two mates in tow, and everyone else, despite everything, absolutely pissing themselves laughing.

  
This was then made worse because the town's Doctor refused to see them. Previous to the rumor been spread around that Summer was a raving lesbian, Doctor Nim would be at the B&B - day or night, rain or shine - if one of the girls was sick or injured. And, now, he downright refused them. Their Mother burst into tears, and the farmer's wives made tea and calmed her down while the farmer's themselves attended to Moon - even though their experience of twisted ankles was mainly just cows and sheep - because most of them had training.

  
Vet training, that was. 

  
While Wonpil did his nut and was ranting and raving - with his two best mates - about killing every "cunt in this inbred fucking village!", Moons ankle was taped up, and Jim, instead been supported by Skye and Star, gave Moon his stick to hobble about with. She kissed his withered cheek, and called him "Grandpa" instead of Jim.

  
Jisoo smiled at the very tender little "Oh" the old man gave, his dark brown eyes sparkling warmly.

  
It was quarter to Midnight by the time all the chaos had wrapped up, and everyone decided it would be alright to leave the B&B and it's owning residents.

  
"But if anyone else of the girls get hurt, call us up, mate!" One of the farmer's shouted as he and his wife went out of the door. Their son tried to kiss Coco's cheek, but she clearly nutted him with deadly accuracy. Jisoo felt a bit sorry for the poor guy as he hobbled out to his parents Land Rover, and then both his Mother and Father clipped him around the ear for his behaviour.

  
And, number four. Last but not least. Jisoo accidentally saw Summer in the complete nuddy in the bath. That truly was an accident. He had helped Moon into her bed after they had got her clothes off and one of her nighties on. All the girls he knew wore nighties. Maybe it was because it was winter, and they want warm cotton, or maybe it was some fashion trend. Pyjama pants and tops were so 2015 or something.

  
As she went off to sleep, Jisoo got out of bed and nipped into the bathroom to brush his teeth; all he could taste was the stale alcohol in his mouth, and it was sticking to his teeth, making them feel furry, and all through his head and body he was regretting not being a better boyfriend. He opened the bathroom door, went in, closed it, and then his chest imploded as he saw the sight of a utterly naked Summer in the bath apparently...was she asleep?

  
She was asleep.

  
She was...utterly flawless, and as beautiful as her sister. Possibly more so. Her hip bones arced gently, and her breasts were smaller than Moon's; even though they both had slim thighs and trimmed figures, Moon weighed a good sixty-eight kilograms whereas Summer look about...maybe in the forty kilogram range? Her hair was pinned up still in it's braid wrapped around her skull, but her trendles came down, but that wasn't the most shocking thing. It was too quiet to hear outside the bathroom, and the door was too thick. It was one of Cristina Dontraeovsky's songs; " _My Byli Dikimi I Fluroestsentnymi (Prikhodi Domoy K Moyemu Serdtsu)_. Jisoo recognised it as well as anything.

  
_"Potomu chto v moyey golove (V moyey golove ya vse delayu pravil'no)_

  
_Kogoda ty zvonish' (Kogoda ty zvonish', ya proshchu i ne budu drat'sya)_

  
_Potomu chto nashi (Eto momenty, kogda ya igrayu v temnote)_

  
_My byli dikimi i fluroestsentnymi, prikhodi domoy k moyemu serdtsu."_

  
_What an impact she has made on all of our lives,_ Jisoo thought, leaving as quickly as he humanly could.

  
\------------------

"...And I'm starting to cheat on my girlfriend, again, oh no..." Cristina's fingers danced up and down the neck of the guitar, the electric one now switched to a acoustic, and the boys gazed at her expertedly and effortlessly she played the instrument. She was laying down on the couch, and she had changed into her pyjamas which consisted of a black silk nightie and a jersey cardigan to was only a centimeter from touching the floor. "I caught her picking her nose, as the crowd cheered for an overdose and I don't suppose you know where this train goes. There was a party that she had to miss because her friend kept cutting her wrists..." The Russian woman's voice trailed off.

  
"Hey, guys, is that my phone?" She asked, putting the guitar down on the floor. Her acoustic guitar had been a lullaby for the drunken young men, falling into a stupor together. Wonwoo was lying on the floor with a blanket over him, and Hansol was on one couch with Seokmin on the other. Cristina Dontraeosvky had tried to coax them upstairs - "Boys, there's a heater up there and the spare beds you can sleep in; you know, actual comfort?" - but they had insisted on staying down in the studio. She had turned off the almost harsh white lights, and had lit up a few candles around the space, five lamps turned on about the 130 square meter space.

  
Wonwoo gave a small hum. Cristina Dontraeovsky got off the couch and as she went past she crouched down onto the floor and kissed his head. She got the phone on the second last ring. It was on the charge on a little table with a statue bust of Harry Lauder. It was Jisoo.

  
"Hey." She said. She didn't call him " _dorogaya_ ". 

  
_Hey, love._ He replied via text. That was how they worked it sometimes. He wanted to be able to hear her voice by call, and he'd send her texts and instead of her texting him back, she'd talk to him across the line. But, nonetheless, if he had been in the room she would have clocked him.

  
"Need Stalin's favourite bitch to come and rescue your miserable anorexic arse?" She inquired lightly. _Where's my bloody cigarettes?_ She thought. _Oh, bugger fuck it damnation, they're upstairs. Jesus suffering fuck._

  
 _How are you? How's everything going?_ Jisoo texted. He sent another one in succession. _What's up with the guys?_

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky sighed gently through her nose. "My Rolls Royce had a bit of a problem, poor baby. I got Wonwoo's Dad and the rest of his lot to come around and fix it for me." She smiled gently to herself, looking across the studio to Wonwoo's sleeping figure; due to the position of the couches, she could only see his head, but nonetheless, that was sweet enough. "Wonwoo took Jeonghan out for a drive at the rally track that they practically own." She chuckled to herself quietly, not wanting to wake up the guys. "It was a really nice day without you actually, you arsehole." She told him. "Introduced Hansol and Seokmin to the music of The Divinyl's, and I did some of The 1975 for Hansol because he likes that band. Do you even know that? One of his favourite songs is by them." She sighed again. "I'm not going to ask you what it was like down at the beach. I don't even care; I really couldn't give a fuck."

  
 _Love, I rang you up because I wanted to hear your voice,_ Jisoo texted. _Can you sing "PERFEKTE STEDER" for me?_

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky went silent, thinking to herself quiet, a kind of meditation that she associated with only people like herself. An internal sort of transcendence; existing within the _okiyo._

  
_"Hver aften jeg lever og dør_

_Mærk festen for mine knogler_

_Se wasters blæse højttalerne_

_Spild mine indvolde under udendørs lyset_ ," Cristina Dontraeovsky sung as she always did, but her throat was tough; there was something inside her making it tight, making all of her tight. She got straight to the chorus.

  
_"Alle de ting, vi tager_

_Fordi vi er unge, og vi skammer os_

_Det sender os til perfekte steder_

_Alle vores helte falmer_

_Nu kan jeg ikke holde ud at være alene_

_Lad os gå til perfekte steder."_

  
As the remainder of her voice echoed throughout the space, she could hear own breath and she could hear the sound of Jisoo's breath. Unbeknownst to her, on the other end of the line by the sea, Jisoo's mouth moved along to the Danish words he knew off by heart, feeling the euphoric scope and the transcendence of them. He loved that song. And he loved Cristina Dontraeovsky, too.

  
Plus the Moon outside above him through the window of the laundry in the B&B, and the Moon asleep in the bed he had come to share many times over. Jisoo's mind went back to Summer's naked body in the bath-tub, and he shook his head, trying to get rid of it all.

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky started to sing again as he texted.

  
_"Er du faret vild nok?_

_Få endnu en drink til at gå tabt i os_

_Dette er, hvordan vi bliver berygtede_

  
_Oh-woah-oh-oh_

_Fordi jeg ikke kender_

_hvis de holder fortæller mig, hvor de skal gå_

_Jeg blæser mit ansigt ud til radioen_

  
_Oh-woah-oh-oh_

  
_Tch-tchoo_

_Alle de ting, vi tager_

_Fordi vi er unge, og vi skammer os_

_Det sender os til perfekte steder_

_Alle vores helte falmer_

_Og nu kan jeg ikke holde ud at være alene_

_Lad os gå til perfekte steder."_

  
_Has Jeonghan heard any of you sound?_ Was the text that Jisoo sent her.

_"Hele natten tilbragte vores ansigter_

  
_Forsøger at finde disse perfekte steder_

  
_Hvad fanden er perfekte steder_

  
_Alligevel?"_

  
With that, Cristina Dontraeovsky hung up the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three points; What happened between Cristina Dontraeovsky and Wonwoo, Jisoo's pity and attention to/of Summer, and the concept between those two subjects. 
> 
> How I wrote what happened to Summer in Moon's family, it was designed as a huge disaster, and, it is a huge diastser. If in real life, you and your little sisters couldn't go to school anymore because the local community had completely shunned you and you're families business because some people made up a targeted lie in a old-world society about you - it's a deeply painful thing, and it has very deep consequences. Which is why she's so upset and we have that alignment of Jisoo feeling very sorry for her. 
> 
> And, Cristina Dontraeovsky and Wonwoo. Even though it hasn't been explicitly discussed, Wonwoo has taken ahold of the power of been able to give the Russian woman like bad anxiety. Also not explicitly detailed, on the night he was at her place, he simply left, which fueled a lot of the earlier tensions and as we have it, anxiety. 
> 
> But, also to come, the tenacity and the desperation and the obsession of relationship. That's something I really want to explore. With Jisoo's previous relationships and on-going flings, they're have never been boundaries un-crossed or utterly broken.
> 
> But, now, there will be.


	11. New Year's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Year's celebrations for Jisoo, Moon, her family, Wonwoo, Suengcheol, Jeonghan, Hansol, and Seokmin, and a Irish Pagan song - "Would That I" - from Hozier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What about a bit of Jeonghan x Wonwoo? (Apologies due, I don't know the ship for them; is it something like Jeongwoo or Wonhan or something?)
> 
> And, yes, The Divinyl's again, and Hozier

Jisoo stayed at the beach for New Year's as well. He rang up the parents every day to see how they were coping with Jangmi; since had come about to her since Jangmi was only five weeks old, this was the longest time he had ever been away. But Jangmi's parents had to learn to do well with their baby, even thought Jisoo's help was needed. Jangmi wasn't his baby at the end of the day; and for all the help and care, the parents needed to learn their own baby as well.

  
Jangmi was able to wee properly, and she had stopped been as physically ill due to the complications it caused; they were working around her formula intolerance by getting the solid food process into her quicker, and giving her drinks made from fruit.

  
Of that, he was happy. Of that, he really was so glad.

  
"My ankle can't be like this forever, can it?" Moon said to her Mother the next morning - Boxing Day - at breakfast, backed up by Skye and Star's voiceover of "Her ankle can't be like this forever, can it?" With Coco's indifferent silence, Summer's shy quietness, and Jisoo knowing his place to not open his mouth for the fucking life of him. Jisoo nearly came to crossing himself as their Mother raised a eyebrow delicately.

  
"It'll be like that for as long as it needs to be." She said. "Why didn't you just get me or Wonpil to come and help you?"

  
Coco groaned, rolling her eyes. "Anyone ever think about that poor guy?" She pointed at Jisoo. "The poor thing can't even tell the rest of you to shut up." She gazed at him with such a sympathy that Jisoo burst out laughing, and Wonpil grinned as he hit the youngest step-daughter - or, rather, certified maniac - over the head and her bum with his newspaper. Coco arranged her food on the plate to look like the bird sign, and she tilted her plate towards Wonpil pointedly. Skye and Star laughed and commented - without sarcasm - on "The wonderful impression you're giving to Jisoo". Coco smiled proudly, utterly blissful.

  
"So, you like Moon then?" Star asked. Skye shushed her, but the other twin wasn't having a pip of it.

  
Jisoo nodded.

  
"And you're going to stay with her?" Star continued. Jisoo nodded. Moon glowed happily, Wonpil and Mother seemed happy enough, Coco said how nice it was but it was downright disgusting otherwise, and Jisoo just wished Summer would say something as the certified maniac of the sisters had him cracking up again.

  
_Oh, shut up!_ He told Coco. _You'll be all grown up one day and having sex and boyfriends_

  
Coco just grinned, before asking her Mother if she could cook more eggs.

  
"Congratulations, you're virtually moved in." Star finished up her questioning pompously, smoothing her skirts as she stood up before leaning over the table to shake his hand.  
"Ooh, don't get your dress in the jam!" Coco, Skye and Moon rushed to tell her, easing her back into her chair after Jisoo consented to her agreement.

  
"You're not hungry, sweetheart?" Mother asked Summer.

  
"No, Mum." She replied. Wonpil looked quite strained and sad suddenly, and all the girls were pretending nothing was happening when it was. Jisoo picked up the nicest apple from the fruit bowl on the table, and the sharpest knife, and skinned the apple in a way that he had seen Cristina Dontraeovsky do it; when she was very small, she had been taught how to eat - virtually like a gypsy - by her Grandfather. There nearly wasn't any fruit she didn't eat before peeling it and cutting it and eating it from the knife, the blade going right to her lips as her tongue and teeth got the goods. Apples and pears, mostly. Jisoo mimicked this, all Cristina Dontraeovsky. 

  
He let out a huffed exhale towards her shoulder, getting her attention. She looked at him, startled, before seeing his honest eyes and smile, and the apple in his hand with the wedge cut onto the knife.

  
_Have some,_ he told her. He didn't ask her, he told her.

  
Summer did take some, and, from the first bite, she came much more alive.

  
She had three apples.

  
After breakfast was over, Skye and Star went up to help their Mother clean and change the linen, Summer went outside with Skye to tend to the sheep and ducks, and Wonpil went over to the barn to put fresh petrol into the ride-on lawn-mower they had to have for all of their acerage, Moon came over and kissed him.

  
"You're a wonder," She told him, holding his hand in-between their bodies, utterly bound. "Thank you so much for doing that. That was amaz - that was just wonderful. Can't thank you enough."

  
After Moon run off to get to her gardnening jobs in the town, Jisoo felt a bit useless, not being able to do anything, and it being not exactly his place to do anything. Luckily for him, Wonpil sought him out.

  
"Ever had a go on the quad-bike, Soo?" He asked.

  
It was one of the funnest things Jisoo had ever done. He felt like if he had won the national lottery, he would by a rurual property with a big old house on it like Moon's family, and he would buy a quad-bike; he sat on the back of it as Wonpil drove around and showed him the land, and other areas and views of the beach and sea by the cliffs, and then Wonpil let him have a drive of the quad-bike when they were away from the cliff. Wonpil was a really cool man, and Jisoo felt so healthy, breathing in the cold winter ocean air, and seeing Wonpil laugh and observe the mute boy on the quad-bike, wrapped up in a thick navy wool jumper with a beanie on and his jeans and work boots.

  
_All boys in the city don't know what they're missing out on,_ Jisoo thought to himself as he drove the quad-bike back over to Wonpil where he was standing in the middle of the field. The engine was below the seat, and Jisoo could feel it warming up beneath him.

  
"Warm engine on a day like this isn't a bad thing." Wonpil told him. "It shows the oil is warm and she's working beautifully."

  
As they drove along, Jisoo could smell smoke, and when Wonpil next stopped the quad-bike down by the barn where Moon had twisted her ankle in the dark and the sheep's field backed onto, Jisoo pointed to the air and gestured about. It took a minute for Wonpil to get it, but when he did, he laughed.

  
"Oh, Mum's lit a fire inside." He pointed over to the house. Jisoo always noticed that with parents. Wonpil referred to the girl's Mother as Mum, like his parents had referred to eahc other as Mum and Dad. Jisoo remembered when he was small, barely more than a baby on the floor, and his Mother had gone up the hallway and had called out, "Dad? Can you come in here for a second?" he thought it was a bit funny how they did that, but he understood it. It was a sort of thing - a matter, if you'd like - that came with phase of life, age. We progress into our teens, calling our friends once - for example - "Moon" and "Summer" to calling them "babe", "darl'", "sweetheart". We start wanting and dreaming and desiring things of them that we didn't as kids. Or so the belief is.  
Perhaps calling yourself Mum and Dad is one of those things. No, not perhaps. It's a definite thing. There's no perhaps about it.

  
Coco came bounding over at the sight of Wonpil and Jisoo; she introduced him to all of her sheep, all ewes. "We used to have a ram, but he got a cancer in his mouth, so the vet came around and put him out of his misery." Wonpil told Jisoo. Coco giggled happily in memory of this ram.

  
"He was so raunchy, that sheep." She climbed up onto the metal fence, and lent over it slightly, still laughing, all wrapped up in gloves and beanie and a thick, padded jacket. "The same vet had to come and take his testicles off because he was always trying to hump the ladies. We threatened to take his trouser snake off unless he behaved. But, then, he didn't behave, so we gave him anti-psychotics."

  
"You could do with some of them." Wonpil pointed at her. "What it was, the Vet came back and we put some tablets in his food to lower down his testerone, 'cause he just had too much sex drive. And because he couldn't get any, he was angry. He kept butting Mum, and if he didn't tame up, he was going to be sent to the dog food factory."  
"I like sheep but the ones that butt Mum are no good." Coco chipped in. She giggled more. "Oh, Jisoo, one day Rambo - the was our name for him - butted Mum and she landed down bum-first into a cow pat. God, I can still smell that cow pat, I swear."

  
Jisoo grinned as one of the ewes came to the fence, and he patted her wool and stroked behind her ears.

  
The next five days passed with him helping Wonpil and Coco on the land with the mowing and looking after the animals, and one day he went down with Moon to the town - on the quad-bike with Wonpil's blessing when Jisoo told him his plan via text on his phone - to pick her up from her cafe job. Jisoo purposely smeared mud and animal shit all over the road in front of the cafe from the quad-bike's wheels, and Moon told him it was one of the most romantic things she had ever had in her life, having a gorgeous boyfriend pick her up on a quad-bike. Jisoo enjoyed riding along on the quad-bike - it was like a motorcycle, but less loud, more wheels, and a fair bit slower, but it was still cool. He liked how Moon either sat directly behind him with her thighs by his and her arms, and he liked how she could cross-legged on the rack at the back, filming on her phone as they went along and/or giving the finger to any desired persons he saw in the street.

  
On New Years Eve they had the big fireworks display in town, but the whole family and most of the farmers snubbed it, refusing to go and be amongst the bastards who were responsible for treating Summer and then the rest of the girls like utter shit. They went to the bit of beach directly in front of the B&B down the steep cliffs. They made a bonfire and had sparklers, their own crackers, and plus every family had cooked enough food to feed an army until utter oblivion.

  
If everyone had come down like Moon had invited, Jisoo reflected that Cristina Dontraeovsky could be up there with them now, singing. At Midnight, the time officially taken from Jim's beautiful old watch that his Father had given him for his 21st birthday, around fifty-two people erupted into cheers, laughter, hugs, and kisses. As he kissed Moon, the twins were together, cuddling and happy, Coco was with her daft friends and one of the ducks, Grandmother was with Jim, and Summer was tucked up in-between her Mother and Wonpil. He could have sworn that her watery eyes looked at him through the bonfire, but, then, the only way he would know that was while kissing Moon he had been looking through the bonfire's flames soaring bright and high into the sky at Summer.

  
It was the first New Year's in four years that he wasn't with Hansol, Seokmin, Wonwoo and Cristina Dontraeovskey either.

  
But that was alright.

  
It was alright.

  
Everything will be ok.

  
Everything was ok.

\----------------

"This is fucking amazing." Jeonghan said aloud as Wonwoo and Bo Hyuk and their Uncle and their Dad drove Bentley and Aston Martin race cars - not rally cars at the rally track, but proper race cars upwards for £230,000 at the Seoul Racecourse Park - rigged with flares around past the spectator stands where Wonwoo and Bo Hyuk's Mum, Hansol, Seokmin, Seungcheol were sitting and partying with around 280 other people - it was a total bash. Hansol had brought mates from his University, Bo Hyuk had brought his mates around, Wonwoo had brought Cristina Dontraeovsky and her band. Wonwoo's Dad and Uncle wanted to bring their name and business and legacy and domination into the new decade with a bang; and so here it was. Most of the people there tonight were worth between £10,000,000 and £185,000,000. They came from all over the world; Australia, England, America, Canada, Singapore and Western Europe. There was one man there tonight with his wife and two daughters who had a net worth of just over five-and-a-half billion pounds. An actual billionaire.

  
"This will be in the newspaper tomorrow morning." Seungcheol said certainly. "And it'll be all over the internet."

  
"I'm not really upset or angry at Jisoo now, but, fuck, he really took Wonwoo for nothing didn't he?" Jeonghan pointed out at the beautiful arced drift Wonwoo gave around a curve in the track before pulling up neatly and steeping out in a finely tailored suit, giving a thumbs up to the crowd. He gave a thumbs up to the crowd, and his black fringe was growing down more into his eyes; Jeonghan thought it looked good on.

  
He really liked Wonwoo. He didn't quite have a crush on him, yet, but only a fool would believe that.

  
As all the Jeon men came back up to the main party, all their friends and acquaintences and business colleagues gathered about them, but Cristina Dontraeovsky's Russian accented Korean broke through the air.

  
"Dad of Wonwoo and Bo Hyuk; Mr Jeon." She winked at him up on the erected stage, bowing to him slightly. Everyone laughed and applauded. "There is a song I know you to like, and, tonight!" She gestured around to Vladimir and Ivan and five other men that Jeonghan didn't recognise behind her. "We play you this song!"

  
Jeonghan looked around at Wonwoo as his mouth fell open, but he grinned widely at the same time. It was a bit of a demented expression, but, suddenly, the same expresison came on Bo Hyuk's face as well as their Mother's, Father's and Uncle's. A soaring guitar rift went through the air, building up with a steady drum-beat and saxophone. The crowd exploded as Cristina Dontraeovsky sung the first line, confirming the suspicions of anyone old enough to remember 1990.

  
_"I love myself, I want you to love me. When I'm feeling down, I want you above me..."_

  
As the crowd whooped and cheered and began to dance, messy waltzes and pub-dancing and swaying from side to side, Jeonghan tried looking for Wonwoo's face but he could find him. It was a new kind of feeling, seeing Cristina Dontraeovsky sing live; seeing her displaying her art and seeing a different part of her nature to come out. Jeonghan saw Wonwoo's parents dancing together, and Wonwoo's Uncle dancing with another woman, Indian and in a Coco-Chanel suit. On the stage, two girls who were something to do with Bo Hyuk hummed back-up, swinging their tiny bottoms from side to side.

  
_"I search myself, I want you to find me. I forget myself, I want you to remind me -"_ Cristina Dontraeovsy whistled out, and she kicked out on of her legs. She was in a skin-tight, ankle-length, long-sleeved dark red dress with a round-neck, pearl earrings, classic make-up as she always did it. Her masses of black hair was long and loose down her back, utterly silk-like with not a strand out of place. She was half-drunk and half-wired and half-pissed-off; the third installment was due to the reflection of how this was the first New Year's in four years she was without Jisoo, and how the rest of them were without Jisoo. Put that with insane happiness, a cyncial sort of temperament anyhow, and 1980's music - now, that was modern alchemy.

  
Jeonghan looked through the crowd for Wonwoo, and suddenly had this tightness in his chest. It wasn't something brief, that just went away. The whole night had been effortless, and it had been amazing, the whole thing injected with both the flavours of the Jeon family and of Cristina Dontraeovsky's introduction into the mix as well. Jeonghan could tell that there was something going on there, but for the better sake of the better half of him, he didn't dare look at it. Clarity or not clarity. Jeonghan blamed his chest feeling like that on the sick feeling of Jisoo not being around even though they were finished - as Jisoo had finished it and moved on - and the sick feeling of impatience now of not being able to find Wonwoo.

  
_"You're the one who makes me coming running, you're the sun who makes me shine._

  
_When you're around I'm always laughin', I want to make you mine."_

  
Jeonghan finally found Wonwoo over by the pop-up bar. He smiled blissfully as he tapped Wonwoo's shoulders, and hopped up on a bar-stool beside him. Wonwoo had a dreamy look in his eyes, and Jeonghan thought it must be the adrenaline of the night nurturing down softly inside him. Jeonghan was surrounded by people he didn't know, but that was alright. He didn't need to know them, want to know them; there wasn't a single person at the get-together that the Jeon's didn't like; a lot of culture was about sucking up and back-stabbing, but not with the Jeon's. They refused to do things like that, and they had taught their sons the same lesson. The larger majority of everyone knew too many facts about anyone and everyone, anything and everything, and Jeonghan wondered how much material it bred for hating people's guts. They were all dressed in their finery, a hundred jewels on the women's throats later to become a hundred jewels between teeth. Tasting the luxury, testing the authenticity. It was like a reflection on themselves. Sort of bittersweet. 

  
"Who came up with the flares on the Aston Martin and the Bentley?" Jeonghan asked. Wonwoo grinned.

  
"Your's truly."

  
Jeonghan laughed. "You've really got an imagination on you."

  
Wonwoo shrugged it off bashfully. "Can I get you anything?" He asked. Jeonghan shook his head.

  
"I want to be able to sit in the Aston later on and not throw up everywhere." Jeonghan replied. Wonwoo grinned.

  
"You can have a drive if you want?" Wonwoo offered. 

  
"Really? Your Dad won't kill me?" Jeonghan questioned, shocked.

  
"Can't promise you that, but we'll have fun." Wonwoo got Jeonghan by his elbow and dragged him back into the thick of the party.

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky loved Jisoo dearly, but she was planned to spend a lifetime hating Jisoo's guts. Her voice went bigger and louder, and she got even more into the gig through the pleasant sort of dizziness that drowned her figure. 

  
_"I close my eyes and see you before me._

  
_Think I would die if you were to ignore me._

  
_A fool could see just how much I adore you -"_ Cristina Dontraeovsky swooped down onto her knees on the stage, cleanly unhitching the microphone from it's stand and bringing it down with her. 

  
_"I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you."_

  
_She was high, to a point that extended beyond words._

_"I don't want anybody else; when I think about you, I touch myself._

  
_Oh, I don't want anybody else, oh, no._

  
_Oh, no, oh, no."_

  
Hansol had invited his sort of on-off girlfriend Kim Irene along to the party, but he hadn't seen any sight of her. He wanted to her to turn up so badly so he could see her face. But what if he was wrong, just in that minute? he thought to himself critically. What is she was somewhere - dancing or drinking or filming on her phone - and he just couldn't see her for all of these people that the Jeon's knew? Either way, Irene could take a picture of all his flaws or take a video on her phone. She knew that Hansol would talk, but sometimes he's always going to be too afraid to do things first-up. Much less bringing her home, or anything like _that!_ that had been her suggestion the first time around. Let's go. 

  
_"I love myself, I want you to love me._

  
_When I feel down, I want you above me._

  
_I search myself, I want you to find me._

  
_I forget myself, I want you to remind me."_ Vladimir on his electric guitar let our a soaring rift that split Cristina Dontraeovsky's head open, but she didn't trip. Thank fucking God. _"I don't want anybody else._

  
_When I think about you, I touch myself._

  
_Oh, I don't want anybody else, oh, no._

  
_Oh, no, oh, no."_

  
Validmir and Ivan - the solo was a double - on their electric guitars jumped in at the end of the verse to play their rift's on their instruments; all the while, Cristina Dontraeovsky just talked. No more than a few lines.

  
"Wonwoo? Wonwoo here tonight? Can you come up to the front so I can see you?" Cristina Dontraeovsky burst out laughing as the crowd coordinated it's feet and hands and suddenly Wonwoo's figure was hefted up onto the shoulders of two very fit middle-aged blokes. "Ladies and gents, he's the man who conned me into doing this. I was literally half-asleep with a fag in my mouth and she sprouts up this shit." She grinned as the boy's solo's came to an end, and the crowd on the track-side and up into the buildings cheered, made sympathetic "aww" sounds, and they laughed. Everyone had mostly been laughing and cheering and dancing, getting drunk. It was probably the most sensible thing anyone in the whole building had done all night.

  
"I'm up here, you Russian tart, just finish the bloody song!" Wonwoo's voice shouted, using all of Cristina Dontraeovsky's words.

  
_Fuck you, Chrissie Amphlett,_ She thought to myself. _You never got laid as well as I did, love_

  
_"I don't want anybody else._

  
_When I think about you, I touch myself,"_ Cristina Dontraeovsky messed her hair up with one hand, even though it wasn't as though it wasn't wild and curly and thick enough. 

  
_"I don't want anybody else._

  
_When I think about you, I touch myself._

  
_I touch myself, I touch myself."_

  
The girls behind her - Cristina Dontraeovsky remembered - were Bo Hyuk's girlfriend and the girlfriend's little sisters. The girl behind her and the boys playing their instruments sang "I don't want anybody else. When I think about you, I touch myself" over and over and over again. 

  
_"I touch myself, I touch myself. I touch myself, I touch myself. I touch myself, I honestly do -"_ Cristina Dontraeovsky jumped up and down before sitting on the stage, pulling her dress up because she was hot, and letting her bare legs dangle over the edge. _"I touch myself, I touch myself. I touch myself, I honestly do. I touch myself, I touch myself, I touch myself...."_

  
It took a flat three seconds for the party in the building and grounds to realize the song was over. When they did, Cristina Dontraeovsky still sat on the stage, but she held out her arms gracefully and bowed as they cheered and applauded.

  
"Hansol-ah?" The man turned around to find Irene's pretty face gazing at him.

  
"Reney!" He grinned and lightly hit her over the head. "I've been looking for you!"

  
"I've been looking for you too!" She responded, grabbing a hold of his nose and threatening to not let go. "Come on! Let's find the bar!"

  
Jeonghan accounted that New Year's as one of the best he had ever had, and he counted that night in general as one of the msot electrifying experiences of his life. After he had found Wonwoo, they had danced together amongst the crowd of family friends and relations and business leaders. There was this momenet where Jeonghan felt completely free; all the trying in the room was being doen by Cristina Dontraeovsky into her microphone as the light hit her eyes and hundreds of people dancing, smiled, drank and laughed before her. There's a thrill in knowing you're getting it right; whether you're up on stage, at the bar, or you're on the dance floor. Knowing you're doing it right. You're a drug, and everybody is happy to endorse you into their worlds. as they stopped moving as the song ended, Jeonghan and Wonwoo still found themselves close together, too close for no lack of comfort.

  
"How about that song?" Wonwoo asked Jeonghan, grinning his head off. "You've never heard anything like it, right?"

  
Jeonghan shook his head in response. "It's a easy sort of song, do you know what I mean? A bit embarrassing but it's cool!"

  
"The song is sort of dumb; that's why people laugh their heads off an enjoy it so much." Wonwoo added. "There's a desperation in it. "A fool could see just how much I adore you; I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you."."

  
After Wonwoo's reply, the two men gazed at each other, words not spoken and word not needed. Wonwoo had always been good at that; those deeply intent, searching gazes. He could see into everyone if he wanted to. He knew them all inside and out just for a couple of seconds, or minutes. Days.  
Even years.

  
Wonwoo's hand brushed up against Jeonghan's, sending a sensation up Jeonghan's skin and to his spine. Jeonghan wanted to kiss him. But he couldn't do it here in front of all his family and their friends.

  
Cristina Dontraeovsky and their band began to play a new song in the air.

  
_"True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree_

  
_Willow dancing on air before covering me_

  
_Under garden and calicos_

  
_Over canopies that was long ago..."_

  
Jeonghan was dying to kiss Wonwoo, but he didn't know how to get him away. Cristina Dontraeovsky's song was crooning and powerful and tenderly pagan throughout the Korean air.

  
_"True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me_

  
_That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree_

  
_Must be felt 'fore the fight that calls_

  
_Threatened fire but that was long ago..."_

  
Even though Jeonghan promised himself he wouldn't, he kissed Wonwoo just as the chorus played throughout the air and Midnight rang out; typical of their family to not notice the actual clock of countdown to the actual decade, not when fireworks and everything else started up throughout the rest of the city, and they themselves were treating it as though the new decade was due for another half hour yet.

  
_"And it's not tonight (Oh-woah-oh-woah-oh)_

  
_When I'm set alight (Oh-woah-oh-woah-oh)_

  
_I'm blinking so (Oh-a-oh-a-oh-a-oh)_

  
_Your blinding light (Oh-woah-oh-oh-oh)_

  
_Oh, let's not tonight (Oh-woah-oh-oh-oh)_

  
_When you hold me tight (Oh-woah-oh-oh-oh)_

  
_Light the fire bright (Oh-woah-oh-oh-oh)_

  
_Let it blaze alright (Oh-woah-oh-woah-oh)_

  
_Oh, hope that you're good to me_

  
_Oh you're good to me_

  
_Hope that you're good to me, baby."_


	12. I'm Giving All I Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simply put, the dawn of the inevitable end of Cristina Dontraeovsky, Wonwoo and Jeonghan's evolving relationship, Jisoo's relationship with Moon...and Summer, and Jisoo's epiphany of home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is a bit of a break before the next big major chapter. In this chapter, there are quite a few future implements, though. The dawn of the end of Cristina Dontraeovsky, Wonwoo and Jeonghan's evolving relationship, Jisoo's relationship with Moon...and Summer, and Jisoo's epiphany of home

Jeonghan thought it was only the best thing that Hansol had gone home with Irene so he wouldn't be at Seokmin's, and that Seungcheol - single - had stayed at Seokmin's - single - and Jisoo was still at the sea because Jeonghan brought Wonwoo back to he and Seungcheol's place with him at about one 'o' clock - the first one 'o' clock of the new year, of the new decade. 

  
Wonwoo looked good with his clothes on, but it was nothing compared to how he looked when he was naked. As Wonwoo's clothes came off, every bit of desire in Jeonghan for the younger man grew. His hands roved over Wonwoo's skin, feeling the muscles and the firmness of his chest and shoulders and back. Wonwoo wasn't overly built, or thin, but he was a young man, and a man still. His body was different from Jisoo's. He was taller and there was a different sculpture to him in how Wonwoo touched him back, responding to his every move. Wonwoo's hands up, and his index fingers slid along each side of the line of Jeonghan's jaw in one single gesture, and simultaneously, his thumbs did the same over Jeonghan's huge outwardly-curving cheekbones. Wonwoo's thumb pressed down on his lower lip, before their mouths were pressed together again. Wonwoo smelt different too; he was clean, smelling like smoke, but he smelt like smoke and the inside of a car engine from his family's work. It was interesting and new and it was curiously vibrant. The warmth of Wonwoo's body electrified Jeonghan; he realized how much he had missed the sensation of being touched by another human being, and Jeonghan reflected on how much he had missed out of it. The thought made him yet stronger, delving into Wonwoo like roots of a tree been consumed by flame. Wonwoo wrapped Jeonghan's hair like a rope around his hand and tugged as they kissed, harder and harder and harde. Jeonghan still had all of his clothes on, but Wonwoo's shirt was off. Jeonghan sort of wanted to just give in, but now he had Wonwoo, he wanted to play a bit of a game where they both cheated and fucked around, and they kept it going to the dawn's sunrise. Their teeth and noses clashed, and it made both men grin and go back to the attack as Jeonghan's hands ran and touched down over the skin of Wonwoo's neck, throat, shoulders and chest, while all of the time Wonwoo had one single firm hold of the older man by his hair. Wonwoo tugged at it a few times, teasing Jeonghan and sending the man wild. The fire made Wonwoo's heart raise to it's feet, and he didn't think about how he became with each love he had ever lost or had been pushed aside by for someone new. Like the ashes of ash, he saw the eyes of Eden in Jeonghan, docile and as pure as snow, and Wonwoo made it to him. Wonwoo and Jeonghan suddenly and simultaneously shoved away from each other to tear the rest of their clothes off; it was like some sort of race, in a fuck-you memoriam to those they had loved long ago, and a wager on who could beat the other in this mad little ultimate paradise. 

\--------------

"Well...that happened." Jeonghan said, sitting up with his legs drawn up slightly, elbows on his kneees with his hands dangling in-between his legs, his shoulder's curved as he looked back over his upper arm at Wonwoo, who was lying down on his back on the right side of the bed with one hand on his stomach and the other above his head, half tucked behind his head. The sheets were drawn up over them a bit, just to their hips. It had just gone six 'o' clock in the morning. It was cold in the house; any of the heating they run in the Winter went to the stop of the fifteen-foot ceilings, and it was the same for the air-conditioning. Jeonghan's hair was tangled and voliminous from Wonwoo's hands, but the heat of their exertion of their bodies last night had given it a type of lankness. It wasn't quite right. Wonwoo smiled a little bit.   
"Yeah." He answered. 

  
"Sorry, I can't put the heating on yet." Jeonghan apologised. "This time of year, you have to wait until about ten 'o' clock before you can turn it on; because the temperature goes down minus below, ice gets in the system and it just doesn't work."

  
"Was that Seungcheol?"

  
"Yeah." They both chuckled slightly.

  
"It was turned on one day and there was just this weird noise, and Seungcheol figured out what was going on. He's good with stuff like that." Jeonghan nodded. "I think he called his Dad, though."

  
"Dad's know everything." Wonwoo attributed. Jeonghan smiled again, running his hand through his hair. "Dad's are like that."

  
Jeonghan laid back down beside Wonwoo on his side, and drew the sheets and cover up around his shoulders. "Is this the first time?" He asked.

  
Wonwoo didn't give any sign of an answer. "Most people with relationships are...it's "Start with the Taj Mahal and work up"," He instead responded. "Sometimes you just don't fit in."

  
"You fit in with me." Jeonghan told him. Wonwoo's head tipped to the side.

  
"I've never really asscioated sincerity with you." Wonwoo replied. "Not really your style."

  
Jeonghan had no idea what to say to that other than, "I mean it."

  
"See how we go." Wonwoo offered softly.

  
"No, no, I'm serious." Jeonghan frowned at him slightly. "I want you." Wonwoo's eyes widened a fraction. "And I want you to want me," Jeonghan continued. "Anything you want from me, you've got it."

  
But there was a underlying matter there that Jeonghan had no idea with how much clarity that Wonwoo saw it:

  
_On my terms, my hands, my leash._

  
"See how we go." Wonwoo echoed his former voice again, knowing he was treading on an uneven ground, but, hey. He had been doing that his whole life.

  
Wonwoo gathered up Jeonghan's body beneath the covers to his own; Jeonghan's skin feverishly hot and flawless and skinny up against his own. It was like some of cage, but a blissful one. It invaded and intruded but it was human. This closeness. It felt un-sure and wrong, but who had thought that the two of them would see any attraction in the other? Wonwoo, of course, in Jeonghan, but why Jeonghan in him? He was a problem, a pain in the arse, always someone's misery or bad memory. He did the wrong thing out of best intentions or tried too hard, consistently been humiliated and retreated further to the side. And the only guy he had ever eally thought was cool - was just about his best friend - was still off snogging wombats and playing guitars in streams in Australia.

  
Wonwoo didn't know when Mingyu was coming back, if he ever was going to be coming back to South Korea.

  
The thought made his eyes and the inside of his head hot, but there was no point spending time on it. There was nothing he could do about it. What embittered him inside was how everyone used to tell Mingyu he was wasting his time with Wonwoo, that cold, weird, creepy sort of bastard. Like a too early harvest apple; looks blissful from the outside, but, inside, things are hard or bitter, or they've rotted from premature development. They're black and ugly and sickened flesh where something sweet and natural - that could have been cultivated - once was. Wonwoo heard everything that people said about him. He doubted his hearing was any better than anyone elses, but he had always heard their whispers, and their attentions, if they were only to take the piss out of him. It was why he had left school at fifteen, and he never did University. He sought for none of that. He desired none of it. Their Uncle had never married or had any children, which meant that he and Bo Hyuk were in for sole inheritance of the business and the property and money, without having to divide it up into thirds and fourths and fifths with cousins and other relations. 

  
How much money could you have?

  
All of it.

  
"My Dad can't find out." Wonwoo said. "Neither my Mum."

  
"That's ok." Jeonghan responded quietly. "We can do that."

\---------------

"My head is killing....me." Coco groaned, flomping downstairs as Summer played Sam Smith on the little CD player from her bedroom, and Moon got Jisoo away from his breakfast to waltz around the kitchen and dining room. Their Mother and Wonpil, along with their Grandmother and Jim, were all still upstairs asleep. The twins were outside in the courtyard garden by themselves, having their own breakfast and time together.

  
_"But every-time you hurt me the less that I cry_

  
_And every-time you leave me the quicker these tears dry_

  
_And every-time you walked out the less I love you_

  
_Babe, we don't stand a chance_

  
_It's sad but it's true_

  
_I'm way too good at goodbyes!"_

\--------------

"Bollocks, fuck it, my bloody head...!" Hansol winced awfully. He wasn't hungover, but he was in agony, nevertheless. He had slept with Irene out in her car, and now the two of them had driven to Jisoo'n'Seokmin's. The last time he had checked on - "Reney?" Seokmin had teased him purposely, stirring him up - she was passed out asleep on the couch, and Seungcheol - who had stayed over - was trying to watch the news on the television, but seemed to be having trouble keeping everything in visible focus.  
Seokmin - who wasn't hungover either - had slammed a cupbaord door shut on his skull. As Seokmin spluttered apologies, Hansol held his head in his hands, his eyes squeezed shut.  
"Oh, nice shot, you idiot!" He told Seokmin informedly. "Is that bacon in the fridge any good? I'm starving for something that isn't rice or a root vegetable. Have you got any butter? Please tell me you have butter? I feel like some fat and calories and cholesterol."

\----------------

_"(I'm way too good at goodbyes)_

  
Jisoo spun Moon around in a circle, before one hand held hers, and the other cupped at her waist, with her other hand on his shoulder. Coco leant on her knees on her chair at the table, clapping along with the beat and she would have sung along except all the adults in the house were trying to rest upstairs after their magnificent piss-up at the beach last night. 

  
_I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes)_

  
Jisoo spun Moon into a dip and as he pulled her back up he saw Summer grinning and as cooked eggs in a frying pan. 

  
"Chocolate, come put your spice on your eggs." Summer told the youngest sister, using one of her pet terms, in a soft brown suede skirt and a white fitted jumper with an apron around her body and a wooden spoon in one hand. 

  
_The way that you see me cry (The way that you see me cry)_

  
Moon smiled ecstatically at Jisoo, and kissing his cheek as they continued to dance around, so effortlessly and unscripted; everything was perfect as they just danced and Summer cooked breakfast for Coco. For Jisoo, he felt he was a world away. He didn't feel like he was in South Korea anymore; he didn't know precisely where, maybe was imagining England with Sam Smith's accented croon. In this B&B by the sea, he felt a world away from Seoul and from all the people he knew there. He didn't know that girls like this still existed in the world; and as he found that they did on a personal scale and experience, he was all the more happier as he lived with them in their existence.

  
_I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes)_

  
Summer began to dance with Coco, but it wasn't quite alike been able to dance with a lover. Her little sister's steps were clumsy and wild; she was having fun, rather than worrying about grace. You would never have thought that just over six years ago Coco's favourite person in the whole world - non-relation of course - was Anna Pavlova, and she wanted to be elected to either a Danish, English or Russian ballet academy as a professional dancer. But children are children, and Coco was certifiably insane, just about. All her light pink, cream, light yellow, and silver dresses, skirts and tights with pretty ballet flats, hair-bands, and hats had been put aside. All for dirty jeans, even filthier wellington boots and trainers, men's cotton and flannel shirts that sometimes got worn as mini-dresses. Last year - or, now, the year before last - Summer had bought Coco a dress with flowers on it, just so the littlest girl of the family could have that one nice dress.

  
Coco had turned her nose up at it.

  
"This looks like something you'd wear, not me, no offence." She had said, before putting the dress - slightly scrunched - back into it's dressmakers box, and pushed it back across the floor to Summer. Moon had hugged her, understanding what Summer was trying to do, but it hadnt worked out like that.

  
_No_

  
Summer caught Jisoo's eyes, and he smiled directly at her - so transcendently - for a sheer millisecond before he smiled at Coco too, and any intimacy was given around and shared until it didn't mean a single thing; not anything at all.

  
_No no no no no (I'm way too good at goodbyes) no no no no no no no no (I'm way too good at goodbyes)_

  
_(The way that you see me cry) Oh-woah-oh_

  
_(I'm way too good at goodbyes)."_

\-----------------

Even though they were at Seungcheol'n'Jeonghan's, Wonwoo volounteered to cook breakfast. Jeonghan was amazed he knew how. Like, of course he would have had to know, but Jeonghan just didn't think it.

  
"Single guy, one big house." Wonwoo further back the reason up. 

  
_You're going to have to change the single thing,_ Jeonghan thought to himself as he drank a mug of tea, holding it in-between two of his hands, feeling the warmth come up through it.

  
"What do you usually eat for breakfast?" Jeonghan asked. Wonwoo chuckled.

  
"Why's that?" Wonwoo quipped, glancing over his shoulder as he cleaned a frying pan.

  
"What? No seriously." Jeonghan smiled. "Everybody thinks I take care of Seungcheol - like I'm the housekeeper or something - because he has his computer job, but the truth is he does 95% of stuff and I contribute that tiny 5% to make it whole. He writes most of the shopping list, and I'll add in one of two things. By the time I vacumn all of this space, he's scrubbed the bathroom, dusted the bathrooms, and he's on to mopping the kitchen and laundry."

  
Wonwoo laughed. "I always thought that guy's pretty onto it."

  
"I don't play the game." Jeonghan remarked matter-of-factly, looking at Wonwoo's bum, back in his suit's trousers. That was the only clothes he had on him, the ones he had come back to the house in. Wonwoo hummed.

  
"I eat whatever I want." He answered Jeonghan's breakfast question. "I'll usually go for fruit, but the other week I had some mince and potatoes and I thought I'd cook that up. If you put a bit of all-spice in with the mince, oh, it tastes so good."

  
"Mince and potatoes?" Jeonghan echoed, trying not to laugh. There was nothing wrong with it, it was healthy.

  
"British peasant food." Wonwoo commented. "Cheap and filling."

  
"Cheap? You're the last guy on earth who needs to worry about cheap!" Jeonghan spluttered. Wonwoo grinned broadly. "I was at that party last night, remember?!"

  
"So...what do you want to eat?" Wonwoo asked, leaning with his hands on the island bench, at whcih Jeonghan sat on the other side at one of the bar-stool seats.

  
Jeonghan still held his mug between his hands, except on the bench, as he leant across and kissed Wonwoo on the mouth.

  
"You know, I'm not so hungry anymore." He murmured, finding gaze and a steadily becoming familiar warmth in Wonwoo's eyes.

\---------------

It was nearly six 'o' clock that night before Jisoo came home, and even though he pretty much wanted to stay down at Moon's forever, he was happy to come home to Seokmin...and nearly everyone else. The air felt different as he walked in; even though half of the house was legally his - he had paid for half of it with his own money - he had been treating it and Seokmin - it's other inhabitant - like a hotel and it's staff. They were friends, and not just friends; they were close. And Jisoo knew that barely being about for that caused a problem. But, yet, the air was cold or indifferent or steadily less commitall as he walked in. They were all in the sitting room, atching a film; Seokmin, Wonwoo, Hansol, Jeonghan, Seungcheol...everyone except for Cristina.

  
Jisoo stopped internally.

  
It was the first time he had thought of her as just Cristina, in...what was years. It had become so habitual to call her by both her first and surnames, that he had...

  
Cristina.

  
Cristina. Cristina. Cristina.

  
She wasn't there, and with her not being there, they were without her accent, the smell of her black hair, her familiar dark eyes, red mouth, thick eyebrows, and the sound of her music. 

  
It didn't seem right. It wasn't right. But they...they were all without her, and that was just as it was.

  
Jisoo knew that to some point he had broken her heart.

  
"Happy New Year, Soo." Wonwoo was the first to notice him looking at all of them in the sitting room, looking at him over the back of the couch; Jisoo recognized Jeonghan's head and body tucked up against Wonwoo's, and Jisoo automtically knew something had happened while he had been down by the sea. Even then, it wasn't something explicit.  
It was just a feeling.

  
Even though it was his home, he felt a little bit like a stranger. Jisoo knew it was because he had steadily - bit by bit - making it less of his home. He had been replacing all of this with Moon and her family and their home down by the sea. Jisoo realized he couldn't just do that.

  
Everyone swarmed on him - even Seungcheol and Jeonghan had cool smiles and questions for him - and it utterly enveloped Jisoo.

  
He'd be a bastard to just throw them aside, neglect them. Hate them and trample them. Because he had no reason to.

  
Not a reason in the world.

  
But he didn't know what he was going to do about Cristina Dontraeovsky. Yes, she had fixed him and held him and got him back on his feet when he was low; ever since then she had loved him and supported him and kept him on his way as much as he had loved her. That was simply it for him; he had loved her. He had danced for her for her film, he had been obsessed with her music - making it a soundtrack for his life - and he himself, and her memory of him, was immortalized in that painting in the Edwardian style terrace house in the city. And even for all of this, every single bit of utterly human consequence and relationship and understanding...there was a kinder thing to do, for both his soul and her soul. At first, he knew she wouldn't see it like that. Her heart would be broken even more, and she would scream and howl and agonize for months. But, all in all

  
Maybe it was time...to let her go.


	13. I'm Standing Here Naked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco destroys - or, to be kinder, utterly putrifies - thirteen houses in the space of a couple of hours, Jisoo continues to burn over Summer while he teaches Seokmin how to look after babies - Jangmi coming around to their house more and more as Jisoo is upgraded from a nurse to a full-time carer for the infant

Two weeks later:

  
"I can't believe you're doing this." Moon translated for Jisoo to her Mother. "You shouldn't be punishing Coco for wanting to protect Star, Summer and Skye."

  
For the seven - sorry, no, thirteen - main families that had spread so much shit and had interfered to the point where Summer couldn't graduate from high school, Skye and Star couldn't attend, and Coco wouldn't be able to go to, Coco had gone around to their houses while everyone had been at school and had work...and had smeared animal shit all over their windows, into their water tanks, through their letter boxes, and down thick and heaped with layers of straw into their guttering and other water pipes.  
It had pissed down rain in a seaside storm that noon-time as well. Thirteen houses now had fucked guttering and drainage systems, and smelt absolutely fucking terrible, with a massive clean-up bill. 

  
Sheep shit was utterly repulsive, considering it was just grass.

  
Wet sheep shit was even worse.

  
Their Mother and Wonpil were having kittens - over potential police involvement and social services been called in because it was only half-two now, and the incident as such hadn't...broken. All the while, Grandmother and Jim - upstairs in secret - had praised Coco and hugged her and had given her lollies, teasing her with comments like, "For this bravery and imagination, you'll get a bigger section of the will".

  
He was talking to the women via Skype in the sitting room, and both of the women were in desperate tears. Out of view of the computer screen, Seokmin was cuddling Jangmi, patting her nappied bum and talking to her affectionately while the television played in the background, and he had figured out for himself what Jisoo's girlfriend's baby sister had done. All of a sudden, Moon and the girl's Mother burst into tears, and Moon hurriedly said she'd text him later on. Then, they were gone. Jisoo exhaled a sigh, closing the lid of his laptop.

  
_Fucking hell,_ Seokmin said, rocking Jangmi back and forth. The little girl had blissfully gone to sleep in the younger man's arms, one tiny little hand holding onto his jumper at the front. Jisoo had been given a formal promotion by the state that supervised Peter Weiss's clinic; he was now on £100,000 extra a year - subsidized by the government instead of Jangmi's parents paying out from their own pockets - and his promotion - what from Seokmin could gather as Jisoo had chattered excitedly - essentially meant that he was a third parent, live-in kind of help. _How did all of them find out?_

  
_Coco did it, came inside - just filthy, covered in shit, all in her hair and her clothes and her shoes - and told Summer, Star and Skye not to worry, the "Babymeister has sorted the fucker's out",_ Jisoo directly quoted. Seokmin's mouth fell open, before he gave a silent laugh.

  
_Honestly, thumbs up to her,_ he grinned. Jisoo grinned too.

  
_Yeah, that's what I think, but inbred rural villages are like things out of a horror movie. The backstabbing and the history and just how much they can fuck each other up because everyone has known each other for, like, five generations,_ Jisoo pretended to retch, simultaneously rolling his eyes. T _here's no such thing as nice country village. Bullshit. Total bullshit. They don't exist at all._

  
_This lessons from Moon?_ Seokmin inquired. Jisoo nodded.

  
_You've no idea what it's like,_ he informed Seokmin. _Mental_

  
_Is Moon going to come back up again soon or are you still keeping things separate_? Seokmin asked, not a hint of malice there or otherwise intended at all. Jangmi stirred in his arms, fussing.

  
_Hey, she wants her bottle. You want to do it?_ Jisoo got up from the couch and kissed her head, making Jangmi's face scrunch up before her whole demeanour changed and she gazed up at Jisoo doe-eyed, perfectly behaved little human being, cooing cutely and silently.

  
_Yeah, yeah, hyung,_ Seokmin nodded.

  
One of the drinks that Jangmi was having was like a smoothie; it was made from "Pink fruits", and according to her parents, it was her favourite. Strawberries and watermelon. Some had been made up earlier that morning to be given to her throughout the day; Jangmi was on a diet of five of those smoothie-type formulas a day, with sweet potatoe mash in the evening and mashed banana in the morning, with a coffee softened biscuit for something different if she took to it. Seokmin followed him up into the kitchen, half singing a song to a still sweetly behaved Jangmi. _It wouldn't just be Moon coming up though; it would be all of her sisters. Her, Summer, Skye, Star and Coco. It's...it's not fair for Moon to be able to escape and they're just left there._ Jisoo carefully strained the mix from a jug that he been in the fridge into Jangmi's bottle. _At the end of the day - the sea isn't the problem. It's beautiful scenery down there; all green mountains and cliffs and clear water, it's great, Seokmin. It's the people that are disgusting, and, hey! Get this,_ Jisoo finished making Jangmi's bottle. He screwed the lid back on, and Seokmin came back down with him into the sitting room. Jisoo showed how to get Jangmi to take the bottle; rest it on her lower lip, and then let her hands come up to press to the sides of it. Only then would she start to drink. _It was two gay guys - a couple - who started this whole thing. Summer was going to the reading court - it's the teacher's courtyard garden, but Summer is allowed by the math teacher to do studying there, away from all the other kids who just pick on her. Their Mum and Wonpil have no idea that Summer gets picked on; you wouldn't think it, but people have a go at her. Say she's a freak, because she's shy and quiet._ Seokmin looked at Jisoo as he scowled bitterly. _Anyway, she saw them kissing at the back of some building, and even though she promised not to say anything and cause world war three - the arseholes went and made it for her_

  
Seokmin swore. _So all of this has been caused by these two guys?_ he summed up. Jisoo nodded.

  
_No wonder their Grandmother and her husband Jim - step-Grandfather, in a way - constantly says about what the hell is the world coming to,_ Jisoo remarked. A _nd even if the two guys were to come out and do the right thing, there would always be this suspicion, and, if anything, it would get even worse for Summer, Skye and Star._

  
_Poor kids,_ Seokmin said.

  
_But...honestly, doensaeng, do you want the house full of teenage girls and one nutter eleven year old who will want to skype her pet ducks and sheep?_ Jisoo smiled slightly, holding one of Jangmi's little feet in-between his fingers. She was about a quarter of the way through the bottle.

  
_I wouldn't mind,_ Seokmin volounteered.

  
Jisoo raised his eyebrows. _You would after a couple of hours,_ he responded pointedly.

  
_No, seriously, I wouldn't mind, Jisoo. Honestly._ Seokmin insisted, trying to get Jisoo to believe his sincerity. _Call them up; they can come if their families alright with it. Honestly, I'm not kidding_

  
Jisoo stroked Seokmin's cheek. _Thank you_

  
_By the way,_ Seokmin eyed him up. _You never told me how you and Moon actually met_

  
Jisoo grinned, and he felt a bit naughty all of a sudden. _I can't really remember, but I know that she didn't have a top on...._ he said.

\-----------------

"So...what's that?" Jeonghan squinted down at a CAR publication in Wonwoo's hands.

  
"It's a Mercedes Benz B-Class and one of the shittest cars ever produced on a European production line,", Wonwoo replied. "It's got about complicated suspension that fails consistently, it's undercarriage cries out to be scraped, it sucks fuel like there is no tomorrow, and it's hell to try and get parts for when it fucks up; and when these cars fuck up, it's not a simple operation; you have to get right into the bowels of these things."

  
Seungcheol laughed, giving the island bench and other kitchen surfaces a wipe-down with a chux cloth and lemon scented cleaner. "Not a good model then?" He remarked.  
"Fuck no." Jeonghan answered for Wonwoo. Seungcheol laughed while Wonwoo hit Jeonghan on the head with the magazine, before opening the pages back up.

  
"That car belongs to one of our customers." Wonwoo said. "It's a shit-heap. Every 10,000 kilometer service it has - you practically need to re-build the engine every time. Everything is wrecked on it."

  
"How much?" Seungcheol asked.

  
"Hey?" Jeonghan's head turned.

  
"How much money is it each time compared to what the car is worth?"

  
"The Benz is worth about £65,000, and it's about £3,500 to £4,500 nearly every 10,000 kilometers." Wonwoo replied. "But it will take that Benz a good couple of months to wrack up that many kilometers; it's a city car, so we're lucky if we get it in once a year for general service, but, honestly, it fucks up all the time because no one can manage it properly. His wife is a pig in Louboutin heels; destroys anything mechanical she gets her trotters on."

  
"You don't like her?" Jeonghan quipped. Wonwoo sighed.

  
"She tried to have an affair with Uncle a couple of years ago. All of us would have gone to town with it, but her husband would have put her in the intensive care ward in the hospital, so no one has ever made a comment." Wonwoo flicked through the magazine, before narrowing in one something.

  
"Is my phone in your room?" Wonwoo asked Jeonghan.

  
"Why? is something wrong?" Jeonghan frowned.

  
"They're doing a re-call on Ford utes;" Wonwoo said by way of explanation. "Need to ring Hansol and check what his model is."

Wonwoo came back into the sitting room a few moments later, the phone dialing. Jeonghan had a flick through the magazine, and found a beautiful red car.

"Nice Jaguar." He said quietly. Wonwoo grinned, and burst out laughing.

"That's a Dodge, Hannie." Wonwoo corrected, as Jeonghan blushed to the roots of his hair and Seungcheol did his best to not further add to his friend's embarrassment. "American; 1946 model. Dodge goes alright; a few faults, but they're not as bad as anything German-made."

\------------------

As Wonwoo slipped his index finger inside Jeonghan, he marveled at how the mix of lube and Jeonghan's pre-cum made his tight walls feel slick and achingly hot to the touch; Jeonghan let out a very soft, breathy moan, the two of them concientious of Seungcheol just across the hall. Mostly, they were silent. It made both of the men in that bedroom seperately think of sex with Jisoo. The zero sound. Jeonghan's body was hot - always feverishly hot - against his own, and he was wearing nothing. Jeonghan lay on his side facing Wonwoo, with the inside of his skinny right thigh pressed against Wonwoo's hip, their crotches and lengths pressed together as Wonwoo blissfully invaded Jeonghan, putting in overtime on his body.

Wonwoo gazed at Jeonghan's eyes, and how the depth of his black irises moved like the sea, deep colour moving back and forth as Jeonghan kept his eyes locked on Wonwoo's as well

"I love it when you're naked." Wonwoo told Jeonghan, the hand that wasn't fingering him him sliding up Jeonghan's thigh, grasping into his hip as Wonwoo kissed him deeply, delving even deeper inside the older man, making him try not to moan and writhe too much where Seungcheol could possibly hear them.

_Never pretend you don't need anyone again when you're lying there that naked_ , a voice in the back of Wonwoo's head said, alight and crooned and bitterly dark at the corners.

...............

Cristina Dontraeovsky looked up at the studio ceiling. 

She was along again.

She lit a cigarette, and smoked it calmly over ten minutes, before calmly stunning it out in her palm.

She blinked her eyes, and looked down at her cigarette, which was still in her mouth, her front teeth gnawing away at the filter, the flame and the smoke it induced having gone out. It left cooling, ashy leaves inside the paper casing. 

She was naked on the floor, infantile-like and raw, telling herself not to be scared. She was split between staying in Korea, going back to Russia to a place where no one could ever find her, or - as she rose to her feet - continue standing there naked.

\---------------

Jeonghan slipped beneath Wonwoo's body, and Jeonghan just told himself that Seungcheol could put his headphones in, or just walk the four blocks down to Jisoo'n'Seokmin's if he was desperate.

  
He gasped out as Wonwoo slid inside him without fault, Jeonghan's knees clasped either side of Wonwoo's hips, his toes curled up in one themselves tightly. Jeonghan's head tipped back against the pillow, his breath getting caught in his lungs and throat with each of Wonwoo's thrust, only to be exhaled with a loud "Ah!" every time Wonwoo pulled back.

  
"Wonwoo - ah!" Jeonghan squirmed from side to side as suddenly Wonwoo stopped moving, but slipped two fingers inside Jeonghan with his penis still inside. The stimulation drove Jeonghan wild, and he didn't know in the obliteration of his senses to hold onto Wonwoo.

  
"Do you like that?" Wonwoo's head ducked and his lips brushed against Jeonghan's ear, the heat radiating off Jeonghan's naked body fulfilling something inside of him. Jeonghan's thighs clasped harder either side of him, and the older man shudded a exhale through his nose.

  
"I'm going to come." Jeonghan managed, his lungs skipping a breath on him so his chest ached cruely and a tight knot flooded through his thighs, crotch, stomach and sides. He could feel the release teasing up his skin, making his whole body electrified. Wonwoo's nose nudged against Jeonghan's neck, and the older man's head fell to the side effortlessly, letting Wonwoo's teeth and tongue mildly create stimulation and blissful torture as Wonwoo continued to finger him, along with moving his hips back and forth again. For all the women in the world that insisted that men couldn't multitask - Jeonghan's Mother included - Wonwoo was a natural at it, all of his body moving and working in perfect order, never breaking the rhythm. Time was lost on Jeonghan; he knew it had been going on for ages. He simultaneously wished for it to go on for hours more, but he was hurrying inside for it to end - this round of it to end, anyway. 

  
"Let's change." Wonwoo told him, but it sounded like a suggestion at the same time. Jeonghan grinned to himself, his eyes slipping closed to half lids as suddenly Wonwoo was on his knees and he lifted Jeonghan up onto him so the long-haired man straddled his lap. Jeonghan exclaimed as he slid down all the way on Wonwoo's length; he felt like all of his insides were been pushed up, but...oh, God. Jeonghan's head tipped back at the sheer pleasure of it, his hands grasping Wonwoo's shoulders; Wonwoo's hands were then at the small of his back and at the back of his head. Wonwoo tipped his head forward, their noses and foreheads pressing together, breathing each other's breath, panting into each other's mouth as Jeonghan began to move up and down on Wonwoo's length.

  
Wonwoo wrapped his hand in another tight hold onto Jeonghan's hair, practically making Jeonghan sing a record of noises and sounds. Wonwoo laughed softly against Jeonghan's chest, nearly mute exhales of puffs of air against Jeonghan's bare chest. Wonwoo inhaled the smell of his skin, soap and sweat and the smell of Wonwoo's own skin from where they had rubbed up against each other.

\----------------

_"Je suis là nue."_ Cristina Dontraeovsky sung to herself softly, looking at her naked figure in a floor-length mirrored, edged and painted black.

  
_I'm standing here naked._

  
_"Je suis là nue."_

  
_I'm standing here naked._ FIN. 


End file.
